Intervening Fate
by Midnight Ryder
Summary: Harry is having a rough time coping with Sirius's recent death; this is a tale of finding happiness in the least expected place...and time. HPSB Slash.
1. Beginnings

**Title: Intervening Fate**

**Disclaimer: This story is heavily based upon SLASH: A homosexual romantic relationship (Please don't read any further than this point if this offends you). Also, I do not claim any rights to Harry Potter or any of its associations. I am merely writing my own version for personal creative enjoyment, and posting it for my fellow creative readers and writers to critique. Flame me, I shall laugh at your pettiness. Feel free—humor at your expense is, well, at your expense (not mine). Constructive criticism and praise are even more so welcome : )**

**This story has been revised on 6/26/06**

Chapter One

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Looking back, in my other life before Hogwarts, I never truly knew what friendship or love felt like. In fact, I really had absolutely no shred of an idea. Sure I had my few moments, fantasizing about a different life—a better life in which my parents were still alive—a life in which I knew the meaning of the word 'love'.

My Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had told me since I was a small child that my parents died in a car accident. Those liars had the nerve to tell me that they had crashed because they had been under the influence, or as they liked to put it: "Those pothead parents of yours were hammered before they died. Such a _disgrace_ to our reputation."

Hah, if people only _knew_ of the Dursley's numerous deep dark secrets, a mere car accident in the family would mean diddily squat to those nosy neighbors of ours.

But, that is a whole other story in itself.

Of course there _was_ no car accident, and their deaths weren't even remotely related to alcohol. My parents died by the hands of Lord Voldemort, trying to protect me from fatal harm. They gave their lives for my own, and when I found out what had _actually_ happened, I felt like strangling those damned people that I grudgingly call my only remaining relatives.

Not a single drop of alcohol had been anywhere in sight. When I think of all the times those gits put me and my parents down, it infuriates me to no end. Not so much on my part, but because of the fact that they had absolutely no right to talk about my parents like that. That made my blood boil like nothing else.

They were better than the Dursley's by tenfold, no—thousandfold, but what else would I expect those disgusting pigs to say? They had a fetish for normalcy, thus belittling me and at that time, for reasons completely unknown to me. Now I know why they treated me in such a horrible way.

I was a wizard, and in their eyes: the total opposite of normal.

Hell, I was even the Boy-Who-Bloody-Lived: the most famous wizard at the time for being the only one to ever survive the killing curse; especially since Voldemort had been the offending hand. The funny part is that for eleven years of my life I never knew. I didn't know many things for they kept me in the dark.

Literally.

I was thrown aside; their main goal to make me feel like the foulest scum scraped from the deepest pits of hell, trying to make me believe that they were being so generous by taking a monstrosity such as me into their household. For a while, I believed them in every way.

If I had known what I know now, I would have rather taken my chances out on the streets.

But the one thing that I truly thank them profusely for, is never showing me love; showing me any feelings other that disgust and hatred. For, when you never know these feelings, it can't hurt you when someone leaves you.

I have learned these feelings of care, trust, and devotion and have embraced them for six years. What happens? Fate throws them back into my face, laughing at the bleeding hole in my heart and taunting me with memories to rip away the scab.

Fate let Sirius die.

Sometimes I believed that I was stronger when I wasn't loved. Now I know this for a fact. Without these feelings, you can't be emotionally hurt by other's actions.

Physically and even mentally, yes, but not emotionally.

Within your heart.

Out of the three, emotional pain is much terribly worse. Physical pain goes away after a period of time. Mental pain can cause you to recede into another world within your own mind, and into unawareness, but the pain that firmly constricts around your heart is always there and it never goes away.

It is a constant reminder of his death.

But I won't let it show, I won't cry into someone's shoulder with my pathetic sob story, I won't present my constant agonizing ache within my chest in front of everyone to see and either belittle or pity, I won't.

I can't.

By now my mask is surely nailed onto my face.

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"Harry," a soft, distant voice called to him, hands lightly shaking his shoulder. He groaned and slowly blinked his blurry eyes open. All that he could see was one big, brown, bushy blob. "Harry," the voice called out again a little louder, the shaking becoming a little more forceful.

He sighed as he slowly sat up. "What'ya want Hermione?" Harry asked with a large yawn, his hand automatically fumbling on the floor for his glasses. Hermione handed him his desired object, and he slid them onto his face, all vision becoming clear once more. They were sitting in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express. Ron and Ginny were missing; they must have been changing into their school robes.

"We're almost there, Harry. Actually, I think we _are_ there. Good thing you changed into your robes before you fell asleep. Are you feeling alright?" she asked in concern as she stood on her tiptoes to retrieve their trunks. She handed Harry Hedwig's cage.

"I'm fine, I just didn't get much sleep last night." Harry said, and to prove his point another wide-mouthed yawn escaped his lips. "Probably from all of the excitement of coming back to classes, and ridiculous towers and mountains of homework." he said with a roll of his eyes, picking up his quite heavy trunk, and sliding open the crystal glass compartment door.

Hermione made an amused face. "Oh I bet, I can see it now, you're planning on quitting the Quidditch team so that we can double our study time together," she said, dragging her own possessions out of the door.

"Funny one, you are." Harry chuckled as they both exited the train in the midst of the rest of the Hogwarts student body. A dark sea of black figures began filing into the carriages pulled by the school's thestrals. A sharp stab shot through Harry's chest as he thought of the last time he rode a thestral to the Ministry of Magic. Reminding him yet again that it was his fault for Sirius's death.

His heart was throbbing with invisible pain.

"Seriously though Harry, you really need to try harder this year. You have so much potential yet so little inclination to live up to it. We aren't children any longer, and now our schoolwork actually counts. I worry that with the juvenile track that you and Ron are on, you two might screw up some chances that may come along soon enough," her voice forcefully dragging him back into the world of reality. He wiped his heavy expression from his face and replaced it with a forced yet believable smile.

"Don't worry about it, Hermione. If it makes you feel any better, I _will _try a little harder, I promise. By the way, where'd Ron go off to?" Harry asked her.

"Oh, well he went off to change right after you fell asleep, and apparently he ended up hanging out with Parvati and Lavender for the remaining hour and a half, according to Ginny. And Ginny went off to hang out with Dean, Seamus, and Neville, so I was left with only your devastatingly beautiful presence." she smirked.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Harry asked in mock offense.

"It _means _that our Weasleys abandoned us, Harry. Despite what you think, a snoring Harry Potter may be fun to watch—and at times poke at—but is absolutely not very good company." Hermione stated in her matter-of-fact fashion, climbing into a carriage. Harry climbed in behind her. Two Gryffindor third year girls abruptly stopped their talking as they saw who had entered the carriage. Their eyes immediately flicked up to Harry's forehead, gazing at his legendary scar.

Harry and Hermione exchanged glances as they sat down. "Well, I'll have you know that I do not snore." he protested.

Hermione giggled, "Believe that to your heart's content, but the fact is that you could give Ron a run for his money." she smiled.

Harry smirked, "And how would _you_ know this?"

Hermione's face reddened comically as she stuttered out, "That's not what I meant, Harry."

"Oh?" Harry's smile grew smugger, " Then why are you blushing?"

"Oh shut up will you?" Hermione managed, practically pleading instead of demanding. Harry decided to go easy on her and drop the subject. He sighed and shifted his gaze to the window, staring at the evening sky. Millions of twinkling stars were scattered throughout the darkness; reminding him of the bright lights that wrapped around the enormous Christmas tree at Grimmauld Place.

"So," Harry began, "do you think that I'll survive Advanced Double Potions? I think that if it is even possible, Snape will hate me even more this year."

"Of course you will, Harry. Because if he hates you that much, he wouldn't fail you— simply out of fear that you'd be with him an extra year."

Harry's face brightened noticeably. "You know, I never thought about that."

Hermione hastily added, "But that doesn't mean that you can slack off, Harry! To become an Auror you need top marks in Potions!" Harry softly smiled at his best friend's concern of his grades.

"I know, I know, a promise is a promise. Just promise _me _you won't make yourself sick with worry, I won't botch it this time." he smiled. As they continued their way up to the vast castle ahead of them, they were entirely unaware of the two sets of ears and eyes hanging on their every movement and word with a dreamy expression.

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Harry and Hermione walked toward the Hogwarts castle. They managed to stick together as students from each and every direction plowed past them; seeking refuge from the chilly September evening. Harry used his newly received height to his advantage, gazing over the heads of younger class mates; searching for a mop of familiar fiery red hair. Harry was startled as the mob of students pushed him forward into the school entrance.

He scowled at the fourth years who had forcefully nudged him forward. They had the honor to look abashed for so rudely shoving him. Hermione rolled her eyes as Harry either consciously or not; was terrorizing the younger students. One Potter glare could make anyone shake in their boots.

Well maybe except a Malfoy.

She grasped his arm; leading over to the Gryffindor table. Apparently they had been the last sixth years to arrive at the table, for Ron, Dean, Neville, Seamus, Lavender, and Parvati were already seated, chatting rather loudly and expressively about something. Harry watched as Hermione's lips pursed into a thin line, sitting on the opposite side of himself.

They still hadn't noticed their presence yet. "…said that they could sneak us some…"

"—But they'll be caught…"

"Oh, come on Neville, there's no point if it's not actually fun!"

"How long do you think it'll take 'em to notice…?"

"Not if we're caref…"

Ron abruptly stopped his comment as he felt a tap on the shoulder. Two inquisitive sets of eyes were watching him expectantly. "Uh, hey Harry! 'Mione!" Ron said with a slightly guilty look.

The corners of Harry's mouth turned up as he watched his best friend squirm. He didn't know why, but he would soon. "Hey Ron, care to explain why you just 'forgot' to come back after changing your robes?" Harry asked.

"Well, you see…"

"See, cause me and 'Mione were having a little bet." he said, already formulating a plan in his head.

A slightly _evil_ plan.

"A what?" Hermione whispered harshly in his ear. He gave her a thumbs up sign under the table. Hermione watched her friend's face closely, he had something planned and she didn't know whether it was a very good idea to go along with it. Hermione sighed, if this would get Ron back for leaving her for _Lavender and Parvati_, then she knew that she'd willingly playing along.

"A bet? On what?" Ron asked in confusion.

"Well, _I _said that you were probably out banging Evette Portsmouth, you know, that really hot fifth year Ravenclaw that you are always on about…"

Ron spluttered wordlessly.

"And _Hermione _thought that you were probably out doing Malfoy. She said that she's seen him give you a once over a couple times."

Ron's pink face grew green at the thought. Their inner circle of friends were torn between amusement and disgust. Hermione closed her eyes in irritation. What the hell was Harry getting them into this time?

"And it looks like we both lost, for you don't look even remotely snogged. But when we started to actually get worried about your v-card, we went looking around the compartments. And Bob's your uncle some guy pulls Hermione aside for a random snog." Harry continued.

It was Hermione's turn to look at him in astonishment.

"W—what?" Ron asked, not fully comprehending the words spoken from Harry's mouth.

"I never knew that she had a thing for Hufflepuffs, but I have to say his friend is hot, maybe Hermione's newfound connections could help me out a little." Harry smiled distantly and then shook his head, "But ramblings of our travels aside, it seems like you're planning to be sneaky, Ronald."

Ron was about to say something when Dumbledore cleared his throat, seeking the attention of the student body. "Now that the Sorting is complete," the sixth year Gryffindors gazed at the new first years, bewildered that they hadn't noticed the Sorting start, "I can begin. First and foremost, welcome to another year at Hogwarts. I would like to inform our newest students that roaming the castle after hours is forbidden, as is the forest surrounding the grounds. I would like to _remind _a select few of our older students of this as well.

"This should prove to be an interesting year, for reasons that all of you already know," Dumbledore said in a slightly darker voice. Harry knew why. Dumbledore had been referring to Voldemort.

"And without further ado, I would like to introduce this years Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher: Nymphadora Tonks." A young woman with short florescent pink hair rose to stand at being introduced. She beamed a smile at Harry. His jaw dropped open.

The whole hall was unusually quiet; taking her odd appearance in with curiosity. Harry stood up and began clapping loudly, his fellow Gryffindors following by example. Soon, the rest of the students and teachers included were applauding loudly, well, maybe except for a great part of the Slytherin Table, and one pissed off Snape. Her cheeks grew steadily pink from all of the applause.

"Yes, yes, welcome Professor Tonks, but now that all announcements have been made, I assume that all that is left to say is, tuck in!" he said, and all of a sudden, the golden plates were filled with numerous delicious smelling dishes of food. Most of the hall began piling large amounts of food onto their plates, swigging down their fill of pumpkin juice—all except for Ron, Lavender, Parvati, Dean, Neville and Hermione. Harry and Seamus were both hungrily devouring their dinner; Harry having only survived the day on Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, and Ghostly Gumdrops (which were eaten pretty quickly for fear of disappearance).

Hermione knew her friends all too well. Harry had been trying to ruffle Ron up by his tale of this mysterious snog stealing boy so that he would spill his beans; which he most likely was to do any moment now.

"So, Hermione has a Hufflepuff boyfriend? Who is it then?" Parvati asked smugly, voicing everyone's question. Parvati didn't look as if she believed it; or rather, she didn't look as if she believed that Hermione had gotten herself a boyfriend. Parvati and Hermione both had been a little sour from their fourth year, the Yule Ball with the mixture of the Daily Prophet articles about her and Harry.

Hermione glared at her haughty tone.

Harry took his grand old time to swallow his mouthful of food; an eternity to his fellow sixth years. "Well, I'll leave it to Hermione to tell you the identity of the damn lucky guy," at this, Parvati scowled at Harry, "but I'm sure that she wouldn't mind me describing him, would you Hermione?" he asked her with a glint in his eye. Hermione sighed dejectedly and mumbled out a 'sure.'

"Well, let me elaborate now that I have permission. Kinda medium height with longish sandy blonde hair, hazel eyes, tanned complexion — come on guys you can get this!" Harry said with twinkling eyes.

Ron visibly winced at the polar opposite description of himself. Lavender's eyes grew wide as she began giggling. She leaned over and whispered something in Parvati's ear. The brunette girl's eyes grew round as saucers as she gasped, staring at Hermione.

Hermione felt a large chunk of ice drop into her stomach. _Any time now, Harry, you can tell them that you were lying…_

"Hermione! How in Merlin's name did you snag _him_!" Parvati asked.

"Snag who?" Dean interjected.

"Come on Hermione, tell us how it happened." Lavender added.

"Who are you guys talking about?" Neville asked.

"Isn't it obvious!" Parvati shrieked, "Hermione's going out with Paul Ackerly!"

Apprehension dawned on Ron's face. "Paul Ackerly? You mean that pretty boy _goody-two-shoes_? _That _Paul Ackerly?" Ron asked incredulously. "'Mione, why in the wizarding world would you date that prat?" he asked. Anger flushed Hermione's face. Even if she _wasn't _going out with Paul Ackerly, Ron still didn't have the audacity to say such a thing about someone he hardly knew; further more, someone who was supposedly her 'boyfriend.'

"Ronald Weasley! How _dare _you!" she stood up at a sturdy five foot six, only five inches shorter than Harry, and seven inches shorter than Ron. Hermione's once frizzy mane now tumbling into sleek, spiraling curls, (Thanks to Mademoiselle Miriam's Magical Manageability Mousse ™ that had come out in stores on May first,) and her delicate features shrouded in a mixture of fury and severe irritation at both Harry and Ron.

Mostly at Ron.

"I will not put up with your _shit_ this year," all of her friends' eyes grew wide at her rare cursing, "There is only so much that I can take from you Ronald, but this is pushing it!" Harry watched his friend in confusion, he had a feeling that this had originated somewhere else other than Ron insulting her 'boyfriend.' "Give me a call when you decide to grow up!" and with meaning she spun around, purposefully striding toward the Hufflepuff table, and sat down next to the sickeningly gorgeous Paul Ackerly.

If Hermione had been in her right mind, she would never have thought of doing what she was about to. In her right mind, she would have just stomped right out of the Great Hall in a sulk. Unfortunately, Hermione _wasn't _thinking straight as she grabbed Paul's head, and kissed him full on the lips.

Paul was shocked for a millisecond until he began kissing the beautiful girl in front of him back, with just as much vigor. The sixth year Gryffindors and the Hufflepuffs surrounding the scene were flabbergasted.

Even Harry's eyes widened at his best friend's behavior. "Wow, I never knew she had it in her," Parvati stated in awe. Ron shot a glare at the shocked girl. He forcefully pushed his untouched plate forward, standing up. "I'm full." Ron hastily left the Great Hall.

Harry knew that he definitely went about the wrong way of milking information from Ron, and that he instead brought unsaid issues to the surface of matters. He sighed as he let his fork drop onto his plate with a loud 'clang' amidst the silence of his fellow peers, and began walking toward the doors exiting the Great Hall.

He had some fixing to do.

Joy.

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_T.B.C._

_M.R._


	2. No Way Out

…_He had some fixing to do._

_Joy._

Chapter Two

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Harry slowly walked down the halls of the castle, his shadow reflecting tall on the stone candlelit walls. He passed many a painting on his destination for the main staircase. Harry was going to try and talk to Ron about the whole 'Paul Ackerly' situation, seeing as it had obviously upset him.

Frankly it was time that this whole thing was cleared up once and for all. Harry wasn't blind, but he definitely marveled at his friends' incapability to see the other's emotions. Though, Harry _did_ have to wonder what Ron and the rest of their Gryffindor classmates were up to. Harry knew Ron quite well, and he wasn't really the type to mingle with many people outside of their group.

Harry took his time climbing the large staircase. He knew that Ron needed some alone time to think things through and to maybe even cool down. Eventually, he came to the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Vértigomian Masquerade," Harry spoke. 'What a strange password,' he thought as the portrait swung open to let him into the Gryffindor Common Room.

The familiar greeting of warmth stood before Harry. The plush ruby red couches lined in gold thread accompanied by matching armchairs and loveseats sat before a grand fireplace. Over the stone mantel was the Gryffindor House Crest on a large tapestry that hung against the wall.

And on the other side of the common room were long cherry wooden tables and cushioned benches meant for studying and finishing assignments. Near the table was a large crystal armoire lined in ruby and gold that contained hundreds of spare parchments, standard quills, ink bottles and a few reference books—only a few, for then the Library's purpose would be defeated, wouldn't it?

In the center of the cozy room was a grand chandelier of candles and crystals entwined that gave the room a glowing effect. Harry walked toward the stone staircase that would lead him to the boy's dormitories. He passed rooms one through five and came upon the sixth door that contained the Sixth Year dormitories. He slowly turned the doorknob and stepped inside the room; softly clicking the door shut behind him.

As he suspected, Ron was lying on his bed staring up at the ceiling with a blank look upon his face. Well, it was better than a death glare which would have been slightly harder to deal with. Harry took a deep breath and tentatively walked over toward Ron and sat on the edge of his bed—both of them sitting in silence.

After a few minutes, Harry cautiously spoke, "Ron…" And he was greeted with no answer. Harry sighed and turned to face his friend. "Ron, look—"

He was cut off, "Don't, Harry—just don't."

"Ron, you've known Hermione for ages. You know that even at this point if you told her how you felt she'd choose you over him any day." Harry stated.

Ron's eyes rose up to look him straight in the eye. "Harry, I don't know who you're talking about because it couldn't possibly be the Hermione Granger that I know. She is the kind of girl who falls for Lockharts, Krums, and Ackerlys."

"You know you're wrong. You both have liked each other since I can remember, and both of you have been too blind to see it. Did you expect Hermione to wait around for you forever? To tell you the truth, I know her well enough by now to realize that she was hurt that you went off to spend quality time with Parvati and Lavender…" Harry drifted off.

"It's not what you think it was." Ron said a little heatedly.

"Oh? Well, I guess it's not my place, but what were we supposed to think? It's not as if you bothered to clear anything up for us." Harry said through clenched teeth. He was growing irritated with Ron's difficulty.

"I didn't _bother _clearing anything up for you because there is _nothing _to explain. I would think that my best friends would be the first to understand that!"

"Well excuse me, Ron! But if I were the one sneaking off to be with a bunch of sixteen year old girls, what would _you _think my intentions were? A tea party? A doll session? Or would you think I was banging them senseless into the wall!" Harry yelled. He knew that he was once again simply trying to get a rise out of Ron to get him to talk about things, he seriously doubted that Ron would do any such thing.

Ron's face was flushed with complete anger. "You wouldn't be doing _anything _to those girls, because I wouldn't let you!" he shouted.

"Excuse me! What gives you the right to approve my sex partners!" Harry raged in actual anger.

"Because you're _mine_, Harry! Mine!" Ron shouted and roughly pulled Harry completely onto the bed and pinned him underneath his larger form. Ron pressed his lips down upon Harry's roughly.

Harry's eyes sprang open.

'What the hell?' Harry thought. Anger and realization began to fill Harry. He was angry at the fact that Ron was being so possessive. He realized that Ron must have had feelings not just for Hermione, but for the both of them…

He could have just asked. Harry had known he swung both ways after his breakup with Cho. But Ron had no right to assault him like this—best friend or not! He began to struggle under Ron's heavier weight as he tore his mouth from Ron's own.

Not a single protest or scream in disgust escaped his lips. No, Harry wasn't grossed out…he was offended at the lack of respect.

Ron's grasp on him slowly began to soften as his glazed blue eyes began to come into focus, realizing who he had just lunged on. His eyes widened in fright. "Shit, Harry, I'm sorry." he said sitting up on the edge of his bed. He wouldn't meet Harry's eyes.

Harry watched the back of his head before he spoke, "Ron, don't lie to me, why did you do that?"

"I-I told you I was sorry," was Ron's reply.

"I _know _you're sorry, but _why _did you do that?" Harry repeated in a soft voice.

Ron was silent. "I-I dunno…I jus—I guess that…"

"Do you like me in that way Ron?" Harry inserted, and before Ron could make up some excuse, Harry said, "Because it's alright if you do. I was just upset about how you jumped me so possessively."

Ron slowly shifted to face Harry.

Confusion contorted his features.

"What?" he asked dumbfounded.

"Ron, be frank with me. Do you, or do you not feel any sexual feelings toward me." Harry said, looking into his eyes with a blank expression.

"I gu-guess I do—but I-I d-don't want this to ruin our f-friendship, Harry. I'm sorry," Ron stuttered.

Harry sighed. Maybe being with Ron would squelch the pain ripping at his heart. Ron was his best friend—good looking too, he was over six feet tall, with longish flaming red hair, his light blue eyes so piercing and honest. Harry just hoped that the outcome of this didn't hurt him for letting himself feel again.

A risk was better than nothing.

Harry looked at his best friend with eyes that finally showed all of the hurt that he was feeling inside as he leaned forward, softly placing his lips onto Ron's. He wrapped his arms around Ron's neck; pulling him down on top of him as his hands tenderly grasped his hair.

Ron began to softly kiss back as he started to undo Harry's tie.

O0o0O0o0O

Hermione pulled away from the kiss with a heated face from embarrassment. She could only think one coherent thought. 'Holy. Merlin. Above.' Her face grew redder as she saw Paul smiling at her with confusion and amusement. She realized that many, many people were watching them.

'Holy. Merlin. Above.'

Her lips began moving, but she couldn't form any words. After a moment she began to gather what dignity she had left and said, "Hi. I'm Hermione Granger. Sorry for bothering you." And then she hurriedly scrambled off the bench and exited the Great Hall.

She began to sprint down the hallway as she heard footsteps rushing after her. She was practically at the Gryffindor entrance when she heard a male voice call out, "Hermione! Wait!"

She closed her eyes for a moment and stopped. With bated breath, she turned around to face none other than Paul. He was breathing heavily from chasing her and said, "Hermione, why'd you run off?" he smiled.

"Well, you see—"

"I don't think we were properly introduced. Hi, I'm Paul Ackerly. It's nice to meet you Hermione," he grasped her hand and kissed it.

She was staring at him as if he'd just sprouted an extra head.

And he just smiled.

"So, would you like to hang out some time, maybe?" he asked.

"S-sure." she answered.

"Okay, see you around Hermione." Paul said with a shy smile.

"Yeah, see you…" she drifted off, watching his departing form. What in Merlin's name had she just gotten herself into! Paul was nice looking, and smart—but her heart belonged to another. And she cursed herself for it.

She could have one of the most popular guys in the school who wasn't actually a git, but her heart wouldn't have been in it. She cursed herself for falling in love with someone who obviously didn't feel the same way about her. Hermione glanced up to see the Fat Lady watching her with a twinkling smile.

"He's a nice lad, that one." she commented with a wink.

"Vértigomian Masquerade," Hermione sighed, "I know," as she walked into the common room.

O0o0O0o0O

Albus Dumbledore was considered to be a very wise man, and he fully appreciated the praise. Yet, he was also referred to as being the all-knowing wizard who would know what happened five minutes before it actually occurred.

That, of course, was entirely untrue.

He knew five minutes _afterwards_.

Not really, that was just a standing joke between the staff and himself. Albus had many qualities that he was very proud of, and sadly, he did not possess the 'Sight.' Being a skilled Legilimens and Occlumens, he could maybe _see _someone's thoughts, and he also took pride in being quite skilled at reading one's emotions.

Having many 'connections' in numerous places helped too.

There was one time where all of his cunning wit, mental abilities, and outside information just wasn't enough. Oh, how he wished he could go back in time and fix things—make them better with the knowledge that was bestowed upon himself now.

Although he knew better than that.

The time in question was almost sixteen years ago; on a fateful Halloween night.

Albus Dumbledore knew that the future of the entire Wizarding World depended on solely one boy alone. No matter what precautions they took to whatever extent, in the end, their fate resided in Harry Potter.

Harry Potter.

Albus knew something about this child that maybe even the person involved did not.

Emotions are tossed about every which way. Happiness, sadness, anger, love…

Emotions…

Those were something that the boy had an abundance of. To name a few: resentment, hurt, anger—even ferocity, occasional happiness and wonder, depression…Harry Potter had been burdened at a very young age, and he couldn't help but blame himself for the troubles in Harry's life.

But the boy was exceptionally emotional.

When he was angered, sheer waves of raw magic radiated from his body, and he was often described as wearing his heart on his sleeve—thus being easily read by none other than himself.

But there was one emotion that was lacking.

Love.

To defeat Voldemort, Harry needed that particular emotion more than any other.

Albus Dumbledore had a plan. It might not have been the wisest, or the smartest. But in a world where citizens were frightened of being targeted by a crazed dark wizard; sacrifices had to made, and risks had to be taken.

And the consequences must be acknowledged with severity.

O0o0O0o0O

Harry gazed at the sleeping red head next to him with soft eyes. Ron was peacefully sleeping, his expression so content—blissful. Harry reached out to brush his thumb over Ron's cheek tenderly.

Goodness knows that Ron was heartbreaking—stunningly beautiful, and he was one of the most wonderful people Harry had ever had the blessing to meet. A true kind hearted Weasley through and through with his own ideals and dreams. Of course he had faults, but that just made him human.

But Harry still felt it—the pain. The cursed knife lodged permanently within the chambers of his heart; every beat that it made agonizing, his heart slowly tearing on the knife created by innocent deaths, deceits and dread; gradually losing the will to wake up, steadily dimming the luster for life in those emerald pools.

Harry shut his eyes tight together in attempt to gather himself together. Oh, how it would be so easy to materialize that illusory knife, finally ending the responsibilities, the pain…everything.

But then, as soon as these tantalizing possibilities reared their ugly face, they were soon replaced by visions of his loved ones who sacrificed their lives for the cause of good. Hundreds of blurry faces who died under Voldemort's cruel hands. Thousands of bodies lying on the cold, hard earth, dead; all because he had been too selfish to carry on.

Too self centered to live up to his responsibilities.

The pain was without a doubt still there.

Harry was so frustrated. He wanted a way out, he wanted to leave. But he couldn't, this he knew. He'd either end up resulting in millions of slaughters, or millions of saved lives. He'd either be a deliverer or a savior.

And all he wanted to do was run into his mother's arms and hide.

But she, along with so many others were dead.

And reality screamed at him to wake up, there was no way out.

No way out.

O0o0O0o0O

Hermione sat on her usual seat next to the fire. Most of the Gryffindors had filtered into the common room, the laughing faces slowly drooping with fatigue caused by the long train ride and their stomachs satisfied by the magnificent feast.

The younger years slowly began to drift up the staircases toward their welcoming beds.

Hermione held her face in her hands. Ron was such an idiot, so thick! She practically felt like screaming after tonight's events. Oh, she'd have a good talk with her friend, Harry, too. He had no right to cause all of that commotion.

And she was furious at herself for kissing Paul!

Screaming seemed exceedingly appropriate at the moment.

"Miss Granger, Professor Dumbledore would like to speak with you in his office. The password is 'marshmallow fluff' he's quite taken with muggle sweets for the time being," said a female voice.

Hermione looked up to be greeted by a lightly smiling Professor McGonagall.

Hermione nodded and stood, walking over to the portrait.

After a few minutes, Hermione came face to face with the statue that led up into the Headmaster's office. "Marshmallow fluff," she said with a small smile. Albus Dumbledore sure had a sweet tooth.

The statue began to revolve, revealing a small stone staircase that led up to a door. Hermione knocked three times, waiting for permission to enter.

"Come in, Miss. Granger."

Hermione opened the wooden door and quickly walked over to an armchair placed right in front of his desk, sitting down. Apprehension filled her as the old man sat there for a while, seemingly pondering something.

Finally, his weary age worn eyes rose to meet hers and he softly spoke, "Hermione, how much do you care for Harry?"

It was on the tip of her tongue to deny any romantic feelings toward her best friend, but they quickly died off as she looked at her Headmaster. That clearly wasn't his question. "I'd die for him, Professor. He's my brother."

"I have a proposition, so please don't interrupt until I am finished."

0

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_T.B.C.._

_M.R._


	3. Hope

_It was on the tip of her tongue to deny any romantic feelings toward her best friend, but they quickly died off as she looked at her Headmaster. That clearly wasn't his question. "I'd die for him, Professor. He's my brother."_

"_I have a proposition, so please don't interrupt until I am finished."_

Chapter 3

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Harry glanced at Ron as he slid his t-shirt over his head; pulling his school robes onto his shoulders. Ron was out like a light, and Harry knew he wouldn't wake until the sun rose, considerably after, of course. He glanced at his wrist watch—it read ten o'clock in the evening.

Their roommates would be coming in soon, and he didn't want to have to answer any questions that would instigate awkwardness, especially since there _were_ no answers to those questions at the moment. Harry didn't know what he and Ron were.

Were they an item—boyfriends? Were they only friends with benefits? Or was it all only one massive mistake that they would regret in the morning; going back to being just best mates; never the same, with the remembrance of their single blunder?

Harry didn't know, and all he wanted to do was clear his mind. Lately his thoughts had been just one jumbled mess. He was filled with a constant ache, a relentless feeling of despair, but his short time with Ron made everything so complicated.

He felt again—if only for a short period of time—he felt relieved.

Happy.

But the thing was that it vanished so quickly leaving him with his melancholy muddle of thoughts and feelings, granting a lone and vivid memory of limited reprieve. Harry slid his feet into his sneakers, hastily walking toward the door. He was going to go for an evening walk, and he was going to do some crucial thinking.

O0o0O0o0O

"Miss Granger, I daresay that you and Mr. Weasley have shown a tremendous amount of loyalty and understanding compassion towards Harry. Your statement proves your virtue; for, not many would give up their own valuable life for another's.

"Society is managed by numerous laws and regulations, and I have abided with no protest for many, many years. Though, some rules are meant to be broken for a greater cause, even if it could result in complete and total chaos.

"You are probably wondering what I'm rambling about, but before we get to the point, I trust that you have noticed a considerable difference in Harry's behavior. Even though he doesn't outright shout it, you just have these fleeting feelings that something is wrong, am I correct?" Dumbledore asked.

Hermione nodded, her face showing curiosity, worry, and of the utmost seriousness.

"Harry is going through a critical phase of his life. With the recent death of Sirius, on top of certain burdens; his spirit is being broken, chipped away with each passing second—and I concede to the fact that some of it — if not most is a result of my stupidity.

"To make a long story short, Harry must either kill Voldemort, or be murdered by him…"

Hermione was about to say something, but Dumbledore kept speaking.

"And yes, Miss Granger, this is a backed up fact and not simply an opinion of mine. A prophecy was made, and Harry's fate is inevitable no matter what great lengths we go to prevent it. It all boils down to Harry, the weight of the fall or continuation of the entire wizarding world is rested upon his shoulders, and he is almost ready to collapse under that weight.

"So I have a proposition. The only way to prepare Harry for the final battle is to lavish him with the very thing he desires most…"

"His family…" Hermione interjected with round eyes.

"Correct. Harry has to proceed through a healing process, and the only people that can help him are his loved ones; though the problem is of their nonexistence. Along with Harry's family, you and Ron are considered loved ones, you understand each other, and without the both of you; I have absolutely no doubt that Harry would give up altogether.

"Harry has had an exceedingly rough childhood, and I will entrust Harry, and Harry alone to tell you the details when he is ready; it is worse than you may have been told, and I hate myself for sending him back to that household year after year with no explanation. All will be revealed in time, for it would be unwise on my part to divulge that information today.

"Harry has only felt love when he came to Hogwarts; and now, even all of the friends he has acquired aren't enough to keep him functioning. He needs his family, and the only way to do that is to send him back in time."

Hermione gasped.

"So I will ask of you, for the sake of the magical and even muggle world; for the sake of Harry, will you accompany him on this journey twenty years into the past? I have considered each and every consequence and am prepared to take full responsibility for every mishap. But I am afraid this is the only way to pull Harry out of his terminal depression, giving him hope again."

Hermione was about to answer, but Professor Dumbledore cut her off yet again. "I do not expect you to give me an answer now, Hermione. You have many factors of your own life to consider; your own family, friends, plans, and aspirations. But after dinner tomorrow tonight I ask of you to bring Harry and Mr. Weasley up to my office; and if you wish to accompany Harry then come up with them—if not, then you may return to your daily schedule with no disappointment from me. I will completely understand. Have a nice evening, you are dismissed." he said.

Hermione stared at him for a few moments, and then finally nodded, "Goodnight, Professor," as she stood up and exited the Headmaster's office.

O0o0O0o0O

Harry kicked a loose stone a few feet away as he slowly trudged around the outskirts of the lake. His head lowered to the ground as his eyes fixed upon his moving feet. It was quite chilly for a September evening, but Harry barely noticed and just kept walking.

Harry kicked a larger rock into the seemingly black water, sounding with a loud 'splash.'

He sighed as he slumped to the ground, clutching his head in grief. Damn it, his thoughts were drifting toward Sirius again! He was sick and tired of crying over it like a little baby.

Bellatrix's taunts echoed over and over again.

" _Aaaaah…did you _love_ him, little baby Potter?"_

Harry's body was convulsing with waves of anger. He punched the hard ground with great force. His hand hurt like hell, but it didn't matter; he continued punching the stony earth in rage. Harry's hands were beginning to bleed from numerous small cuts and scrapes.

He clutched his head again, but this time the tears began to fall. Faster and faster they fell as countless emotions flowed through Harry's veins. He let out a bloodcurdling scream in a torn voice; he grasped his scar. It felt as if that invisible knife suddenly shifted north to his forehead.

Throughout the pain, blood, and tears, Harry felt that sick feeling of delight—elation. Harry just couldn't take it anymore. He was being tugged in a million different ways and he _just couldn't take it_!

Blackness encircled him.

O0o0O0o0O

"…be alright, Professor?"

"I assure you that Mr. Potter will be just fine, it just looks as if he was emotionally overwhelmed."

"Professor, I-I've made my decision—I…"

"Miss Granger, now is not the time…"

Harry heard voices talking around him, they were of no other than Hermione and Dumbledore. Harry's head was killing him; he must have been nursing the migraine from Hell. He tried to remember what had happened last night.

He could only remember pain, and happiness…

_Voldemort…_

_Voldemort was happy about something. But what?_

It was never good when Voldemort was happy, for that usually meant that Harry would soon be facing another struggle for his life. Yet somehow inhumanly so; Harry's headache just grew worse.

He opened his eyes, only to be greeted by a familiar set of blue. Ron was sitting at a chair next to his bed, watching him with a frown.

Harry weakly smiled. Well, it was more of a _grimace_ than a smile, a stab of pain shot through his head. Nonetheless Ron's face lit up as he exclaimed, " Harry! You're up!" Ron's cry of delight alerted Hermione and Professor Dumbledore of his consciousness, 'Well,' Harry thought, 'no point in discussing relationship issues in front of an audience.'

Hermione scurried over to his bed side and with a worried gasp she flung her arms around his shoulders squeezing him in a rather tight embrace. Ron ended up lightly tapping her on the shoulder, and she hesitantly pulled away, gazing at him like a mother hen would a baby chick.

"Are you alright Harry? You had us all so worried! What were you doing out by the lake at night! How many times have I told you going out that late is a bad idea? You could have been badly hurt if someone hadn't found you! You—you had a really bad concussion when we found you! You could have bled to death!" she managed in a tight voice.

"'Mione, give it a rest, will you?" Ron said in exasperation.

Hermione rounded on him; speaking to him for the first time since the previous night. "And _you_! Why did you _let_ him roam outside all by himself! Weren't you supposed to be with him!"

"He was in bed before I fell asleep! What was I supposed to do, stay up all night and watch him like a hawk for absolutely no reason!"

"W—well, _obviously_, Harry fainted because he was upset! Ronald Bilius Weasley, I swear; if you distressed him in any way to make him run off like that, I—I'll…"

"Stop it!" Harry shouted. For goodness sakes, they were standing there arguing as if he were a child in their paternal care, needing to be watched over—kept out of danger. Damn it, he was SICK of being such a baby in everyone's eyes; including his own!

They all looked at him with open mouths ready to insult each other, but they both closed their said mouths and sat at the seats alongside his bed. He shut his eyes again and let his sore head thump against the headboard behind him.

Dumbledore cleared his throat and said, "Now that we've got that out of our systems, I feel as if I should inform Harry and Ron of my plan, Miss Granger. As of this morning, the matter seems to be at its worst."

O0o0O0o0O

A sixteen year old Sirius Black reluctantly opened his eyes to blinding light. The morning sunlight was shining in through the numerous dorm windows, and apparently he was the only one there to witness it.

His alarm clock read ten thirty-five in the morning.

"Shit." he cursed as he threw his covers off of his body and stumbled over to his trunk. He threw on a pair of slacks, socks and shoes; hastily pulled his robe over his wrinkled shirt—grabbing his bag, and made way for the door.

As he leapt down the stairs three at a time, he quickly cast a cleaning charm within his mouth. A bed head he could handle, but morning breath was just sick, man. 'Thank you so much, James, for waking me up!' he thought running down corridor after corridor.

He checked his wristwatch—ten forty…

Sirius was ten minutes late for his second class of the day; Transfiguration. He'd already completely missed History of Magic—but there wasn't really anything he could do about that. Normally he, James, and Peter would skive off classes after the Christmas holidays…but even Sirius had to admit that it wasn't wise for one to miss class on the very first day of term.

Especially when the class he was about to burst into was taught by McGonagall…

He came to a halt in front of a set of giant oak doors and slowly creaked one open to peak inside. She was sitting at her desk, writing something as the sound of quills scratching parchment filled the vast classroom.

Sirius softly tiptoed to the empty seat next to James, and as soon as he sat down, Professor McGonagall said, "Thank you for joining us, Mr. Black. Please inform us of why you were delayed."

She held no hint of a smile upon her face.

"Well you see Professor, I was on my way but then Peeves started throwing flaming dung bombs at me, and I clumsily tripped, but _then_ I saw a lone whimpering First Year girl walk by, and I said, "Are you lost, dear runt? And…"

"As interesting as your imagination may be, Mr. Black, I have a class to teach. And the next time you sleep in; think of a plausible excuse before you attempt to attend my class late. If you can't manage to be here on time, then don't come at all. I ask you to please wait outside for the remainder of the period, and I'll have a talk with you after class."

Sirius spluttered and looked at his friends; they were all giving him sympathetic looks, yet there was a strange _amusement _behind them.

'Yes, Sirius Black, you sure chose the most supporting friends out of all, didn't you?' he thought crossly as he briskly walked out of the classroom.

O0o0O0oO0oO

Harry gaped at the Headmaster. Was he actually serious? Did he actually want Harry to travel twenty years into the past; attending school with his parents? And only one single thought echoed throughout the recesses of his mind—the old man had finally lost it.

Lost it for good.

It was unnatural—illegal! And yet, and yet Harry's emerald irises flickered with foreign light at the mere prospect, a shred of hope was being dangled right in front of his very nose. He'd actually get to meet his parents, and—and see Sirius again.

_Sirius…_

_Harry sat on his twin bed in the room he shared with Ron. Ron had gone with Mrs. Weasley to Diagon Alley. Apparently he had forgotten to get more Potions ingredients to replenish his supply for the new term._

_Dinner had been finished over an hour ago, and mostly everyone in the house had gone home—or to sleep. Harry was leaning against the headboard of his bed, a large blue book propped up against his knees._

_Harry turned the page, looking at a picture of his mum and dad at their wedding reception. Their faces were absolutely glowing with happiness, their hearts full of hopes and dreams for their future together._

_Harry shut the book closed and tucked it back into the bottom of his trunk. There was no use in getting upset now. He was cleared and going back to Hogwarts! But he kept picturing Sirius's melancholy countenance._

_He almost wished the he _had _been expelled. He didn't like it when Sirius was upset and especially if it was because of him._

_Harry heard the hinges on his bedroom door softly creak as someone entered quietly. He looked up and saw that it was Sirius. Harry's expression was of worry as Sirius trudged over toward him and plopped on his back onto Harry's bed._

"_Hey, Harry." Sirius said with a visibly forced smile._

_Harry watched his godfather with curiosity. "Couldn't sleep?"_

"_Not really, I think Buckbeak might need a bath one of these days—the stench is dreadful."_

_Despite himself, Harry found himself chuckling at this. Sirius softly laughed as well, but Harry could still tell that something was amiss. "Sirius, is there something wrong?" Harry asked with concerned emerald eyes._

_There was an extended pause before Sirius finally answered._

_He sat up and looked straight into Harry's eyes and began to say something but apparently thought better of it. "No, Harry. I'm fine," Sirius ran a nervous hand through his midnight black tresses, "I just wanted to say good bye before the inevitable chaos of tomorrow. Just be careful this year, Harry, I don't want anything to happen to you."_

_Harry nodded with a slight frown._

"_Well, goodnight then," he said standing to his feet. Sirius began to slowly walk towards the door._

"_Sirius, wait…" Harry said as he scrambled to his feet. "I don't want to seem like a, well, like a…but well, could you—you see, uh…"_

_A small, sad smile broke over Sirius's face as he enveloped his arms around Harry tightly. Harry closed his eyes as he felt the sincere affection radiating from his godfather. After a few moments, Sirius let go and ruffled Harry's hair. "No one is ever too old for love, Harry. I don't know if you realize it, but a whole lot of people care about you. Night, Harry," he said as he opened the old wooden door, clicking it shut softly behind him._

"_Goodnight, Sirius…" Harry said to the spot where Sirius had been just moments before._

Harry felt his eyes begin to burn with the threat of shedding tears. He looked up at the Headmaster and then his glassy gaze wondered over to Ron. Everyone was watching him, waiting for any type of reaction.

Harry gazed into Ron's pale blue eyes, silently asking him if he'd do this for him. Asking him if he was willing to throw everything he knew and loved out of the window. Harry honestly didn't expect Ron to do any such thing. He would be leaving _everything_, with a possibility of never returning to it with everything the same.

Ron smiled at Harry and then looked up at Professor Dumbledore. "I'll do it. I think it's a brilliant idea." Hermione was beaming as she interjected, "I'll do it too." Everyone's gazes returned to Harry.

He felt his lips tugging into a smile as a traitorous tear leaked from his mask and down his cheek. That was enough of a response. Ron and Dumbledore were smiling wistfully at him as Hermione rushed over to him once more and began crying into his shoulder with the largest grin imaginable on her face.

Harry's pure innocence and wonder began to slowly pour into his features.

Was this actually happening?

Would everything be alright again?

Harry hoped so.

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_T.B.C_

_M.R._


	4. Chaotic Meetings

…_Harry's pure innocence and wonder began to slowly pour into his features._

_Was this actually happening?_

_Would everything be alright again?_

_Harry hoped so._

Chapter 4

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Sirius was sitting against the wall next to the transfigurations classroom. He stared up at the vast ceiling, watching a stray dragonfly. Sirius found himself watching the bug fly overhead back and forth.

Back and forth.

It's body was a forest green, and its wings were clear, yet when it flew by a near candle the wings almost seemed to take on a rainbow hue; a splash of several colors. Must have been the result of today's lesson, he mused.

It seemed like an eternity until the bell rung; a loud chiming sound echoing throughout the corridors. Sirius slowly stood to his feet and awaited his little 'chat' with Professor McGonagall.

The doors of the Transfiguration classroom were opened as several Sixth Year students began rushing out towards the Great Hall for lunch. He saw James, Remus, and Peter exit the classroom. He gave them all an annoyed pout as they motioned that they would be waiting for him at the end of the hall.

"Mr. Black, I would love to hear your reason for being late to class today inside of my office, if you will." The older Professor said briskly.

He trudged inside.

"Explain."

"Well, like I said, I was on my way, but Peeves…"

"Do not lie to me Mr. Black."

"I slept in."

"I thought as much. I'll give you a break this time, Black, because it's only the first day of term. Your assignment for tonight is to practice the 'Illuminnis Calteritis' charm. I want to see you transfigure a mouse into a perfect firefly by tomorrow, and I trust you'll be here on time. Good day." she said, and sat back down at her desk.

Sirius quickly walked out of the classroom to meet his friends. They were leaning against the wall and were smiling at him as he came out. He rolled his eyes at them and said, "I appreciate the wake up call." His grin defied the irritation he was trying to portray.

"Any time, mate, any time." James said with a smile and clapped him on the back.

"I guess we should head down to the Great Hall then." Remus said, smirking at his best friend.

"I suppose you're right." James sighed dramatically swishing his robes as he stood in a stance to strut into the Great Hall. The three boys started bursting out in laughter as they watched their friend make a daft fool of himself.

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Most of the school sat in the Great Hall, heartily eating their lunches, seizing the opportunity to talk with their friends during their break from classes. Hundreds of chattering voices blended into one loud sound, resembling a roar.

Four boys were huddled together conspiring.

"So, when the greasy git heads towards Potions, we'll…"

"QUIET!" a loud voice bellowed over the racket.

Every student shut their mouths and turned their attention to their Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore. "Thank you," the old man smiled, "I would like to announce a late arrival of our three newest students: Ron Westley, Hermione Granger, and Harry Johnson. All three have been sorted into Gryffindor, I trust that you will treat them with as much respect as you desire for yourselves. Have a nice day." he finished.

Ever students' eyes were resting upon the newest additions to the school.

Harry, Hermione and Ron promptly walked over to the Gryffindor table, completely aware of everyone's stares.

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Harry wasn't very hungry. He just sat at the Gryffindor table with visible awkward tension. He couldn't help it; he just had to. Harry glanced over at the four Marauders. His eyes grew wide at the sight of them, his father—oh my, he really _did _resemble his father. If he hadn't known better, he would've sworn on his life that his long lost twin was sitting right down the table.

Remus had a brownish gold shade of hair, all of the graying hairs gone. His face was young and carefree, the lines of worry and burden long gone. Though, the adolescent werewolf's eyes were still the same, there was a maturity and slight sadness within the amber depths. He was just learning to cope with the reality of being what he was; Harry felt profound compassion towards his old Professor.

His eyes scornfully slid past Pettigrew.

His breathing stopped as his gaze landed on Sirius. His heart was beating rapidly. He painfully bit his lip and turned his head away, feeling the tears building. But, oh damn it, they were from happiness.

Sirius was alive again.

Harry's heart felt so lightweight that he wanted to jump for joy right here and now. He'd get to see Sirius again; hear his voice; see him laugh.

Harry had been too wrapped up in the past to notice the seven stares of his best friends, the Marauders, and Lily Evans.

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James, Sirius, Remus and Peter were all watching the three new students in contemplation. The red head—Ron—was eating his lunch with gusto; glancing at the other boy in worry. The girl—Hermione—was daintily sipping her juice as she watched the other boy with concerned eyes.

Harry, was it?

Harry looked like an exact carbon copy of James; it was hard not to stare. They were probably roughly the same height as well. Suddenly the boy turned his head and began to study them each one bye one, numerous emotions flying over his features.

Oddly, when his forest green eyes landed on Sirius, he bit his lip; pain and elation flashed through those intense eyes as he quickly looked away.

All four Marauders' gazes met, with raised eyebrows.

James' expression grew dark when his gaze shifted towards one Lily Evans.

Apparently, her curiosity had been spiked as well, for she was staring at the trio.

"Let's go pay our new peers a visit, shall we?" James asked in a soft tone. Remus, Sirius, and Peter all exchanges glances yet again, but said nothing as they stood up and followed James to the other end of the table; surrounding the new students.

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Harry watched as they stood up and began to walk towards the end of the table. He felt as if he should be feeling happiness that they were already taking an interest in him, but then, why was it that the glint in his father's eyes unsettled him more than a bit?

The four of them squeezed in between students, so that they were sitting opposite of them. Harry tried to form a good natured smile; but it didn't quite come out right; he was sure the slight fear was shining through.

"Hey, I'm James. This is Sirius, Remus, and Peter." James said with a large grin, extending his hand. Harry weakly shook it; noticing that their hands had the exact same build.

"I'm…"

"Harry; we know. Harry, Ron and Hermione." Sirius smiled.

"So do you all know each other, or something?" Remus asked.

Hermione took it upon herself to answer. Harry thanked the gods for his ever observant best friend; she must have noticed his nervousness. Ron squeezed his hand under the table softly.

God, was he that obvious!

"Yes, actually. Our old school was in France—Beauxbaton—have you heard of it?"

Four heads nodded.

"Well, Harry and Ron have been my best mates since we were ten, and when Harry received a letter from the Ministry that he had to move in with his Uncle, we just decided to come along. We don't have parents—we're all each other has." she finished.

A slightly awkward silence ensued.

"Well I'm quite sorry to hear about that," James said, "but why don't you seem to have an accent."

"We wouldn't, because we actually were born in England and lived here for most of our childhood. We met in a boarding school for orphans, and we were all shipped off to Beauxbaton when we received our acceptance letters." she said.

Harry watched his friend in slight awe. He would never have been able to just ramble off lies like that and not even break out in a sweat. He looked up at them and noticed that they were staring at him while holding a conversation with Hermione.

He felt his mouth go dry.

He internally cursed at himself. Why was he acting so nervous and edgy around the people that he loved so much? Well, except the rat…

"So…Harry, interested in Quidditch?" James asked lightly.

Ron answered for him. "Of course he's interested in Quidditch! I swear, I don't know how someone couldn't be, I mean, it's the best bloody sport out there!"

"It's the only sport you know of, Ron." Hermione sighed crossly.

"Harry was the seeker on our House Team in Beauxbaton! He was the best in the school, I tell you," Ron beamed at Harry, "Always beating that bloody Mal—Mal—Mallington." Ron finished lamely, his face pale at his almost screw up.

Hermione stared down at her plate, and Harry seemed even more nervous than before. This exchange, also, did not go unnoticed. "Any girlfriends at your old school?" Sirius asked him unabashedly, his gaze shifting over toward Hermione and returning to Harry.

Harry felt as if his face was on fire. "N-no." he whispered, thinking of Ron's face.

Hermione, yet again—god bless her soul—saved him from any more questioning in that area; even if she didn't quite know what she was saving him from, really. "Nasty break up. Tough subject." she stated.

Sirius nodded his head, his eyes never leaving Harry.

"If you don't mind me asking, Harry, what happened to your parents?" James asked.

Harry shot his head up and stared at James for an exceptionally long moment, his hard glare shifting to Pettigrew on their own. His emerald eyes seemed to ignite into a smoldering emerald fire, and yet at the same time, all of the loathing and revulsion turned his face into an icy glower.

The small blonde boy's eyes widened at the open abhorrence and he slouched lower into his seat, looking to see what James and the others were thinking about this new stranger.

James saw the raw fury and detestation in this Harry Johnson's eyes. He knew it, this guy was a freak. His little orphan stories weren't going to win him over. No one; absolutely no one, glared at his friend(s) like that and escaped unscathed.

"Excuse me, _Johnson_, but do you have a _problem _with Peter?"

Harry blinked and looked around at the situation. Sirius and Remus looked shocked, Ron and Hermione looked pale…his father looked entirely furious. Oh god, why did his father have to ask him the 'one' question that would throw him over the edge?

If only James knew all of that loathing he felt for that vile rat was in his own honor and memory.

If only.

"Um, no problem, D—James. None at all." he said softly.

"Oh really? Because it sure _looked _as if you had a problem a minute ago. What, do you think that your little orphan arse is better than his—ours? Do you! Who was this Mallington person? I bet it was the weakest player in the game. Pumping yourself up with it I bet. Oh if only we all had our two little side kicks who worshipped the ground we spit on!" he yelled, gesturing at Ron and Hermione.

"I wouldn't be talking, Potter!" a female voice exclaimed.

Everyone looked to see a red headed, green eyed, sixteen year old witch that appeared just as livid as James himself. His mother was absolutely fuming.

"Who gives _you _the right to talk about self centered arrogance! You don't even _know _him, and yet, you see him as a threat to your _image_, and you go ballistic on him! You have NO right!"

James gawked at her.

"W-Why are you defending him!"

"He has done nothing!"

"H-he was _glaring _at Peter!"

"Ask yourself if that is actually the reason. Hundreds of people have not exactly liked your friends for _very clear reasons_ and I have never seen you pick a fight with them, have you!"

James' mouth was hanging open; he uncannily resembled a fish out of water.

"God, James! Talk about who is on their high pedestal! When will you EVER grow up! I can't STAND you when you ridicule about nothing, accusing OTHERS of YOUR actions! I have never seen a more conceited, egotistical, haughty pig ever! Ever!" she shouted.

She walked over to her previous seat, grabbed her books, and stormed out of the Great hall, the atmosphere practically crackling behind her.

Silence.

James rounded on Harry. "You! YOU! Watch it Johnson, you'll get what you deserve one of these days, Evans won't always be around to save your sorry little arse. He stomped out of the hall where his mother had left moments ago.

Sirius, Remus, and Peter all exchanged looks and stood up to follow their friend.

Harry watched them all leave with miserable eyes.

He had done it this time, hadn't he?

As if in on cue, the little knife returned, twisting sharply, making him bleed inside once more.

Harry looked over at Ron. The red head was considerably shaken by the little outburst but hastily placed a consoling smile upon his face. Hermione spoke up, "I think we should head back to our dormitories. Dumbledore gave us the rest of the day off, and I think that we need it." she said.

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Harry lay on his back in his new bed, staring at nothing. Hermione had gone to her room to unpack and study. Ron was lying next to him, holding the dark haired teen in his arms. Harry had a melancholy frown upon his features.

Ron stroked his hand clasped within his and said, "Cheer up, Harry, it'll all blow over soon…"

Harry gave a half hearted smile at his…boyfriend? He really needed to ask Ron about that sometime…but now, now he was just so tired…

Harry seriously doubted that everything would work out soon.

And with that last passing thought, he fell asleep in his best friend's arms.

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_T.B.C._

_M.R._


	5. Friends, New and Old

_Ron stroked his hand clasped within his and said, "Cheer up, Harry, it'll all blow over soon…"_

_Harry gave a half hearted smile at his…boyfriend? He really needed to ask Ron about that sometime…but now, now he was just so tired…_

_Harry seriously doubted that everything would work out soon._

_And with that last passing thought, he fell asleep in his best friend's arms._

Chapter 5

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"Harry," someone softly said, slightly shaking his arm. Harry slowly blinked his eyes open and a sharp pain shot into his eyes. "Dammit, forgot…take off glasses…" he mumbled as he shut his eyes. Harry removed his round spectacles and massaged his eyelids with a sigh.

He opened his eyes to look at a very blurry Ron. Said red head was smiling in adoration at him. Harry replaced his glasses onto the bridge of his nose and asked, "What time is it?" in a groggy voice.

He hadn't intended to fall asleep, hell, he felt ten times worse than before—as if he had been run over by the Knight Bus itself. But he supposed that he fell asleep because his body was in desperate need of rest.

Ron glanced down at his Muggle wristwatch, a present from his father who was completely taken with Muggles, with a frown on his freckled face. "Seems to have stopped, bloody rubbish." he muttered; glancing at a near bedside alarm clock.

"Dinner starts in ten minutes, you slept for a good six hours, mate." Ron said.

Harry nodded his head. Something was gnawing at him. That statement had made him feel odd, and Harry didn't particularly know why. His eyes filled with clarity as he analyzed Ron's answer.

"…_you slept for a good six hours, mate…"_

He frowned. Did Ron still think of him as a friend? Because if he did, then Harry wanted to get these things straightened out once and for all.

"Harry? You still in there?" Ron waved a hand in front of his face with an amused smile.

Harry attempted a feeble upturn of his lips.

"Ron, can I talk to you about something?" Harry asked, a contemplative expression playing on his features.

"Sure, Harry, what is it?"

"Well…"

"There you are! You both are still in here?" Hermione asked in puzzlement; immediately brushing it off, "Well, guess what! There's a new spot open on the Gryffindor team for a seeker! And tryouts are this Sunday!" she breathed, shoving a yellow paper in front of Harry's face.

**GRYFFINDOR QUIDDITCH TRYOUTS**

**BEATER: Try outs for our Beater position will be held this Saturday, beginning at ten o'clock. May run into the afternoon depending on the number of potential candidates.**

**SEEKER: Try outs will be held on this Sunday at nine o'clock. Seeing as we do not have the time to monitor each and every one of you to see who catches the Snitch the quickest, all that we require of you is to show your flying and coordination skills.**

**The Gryffindor House Quidditch Team sincerely apologizes in advance to anyone who does not receive either position; there are only two openings available. If you do not make the team, please do not take it personally, we would love to have you all play if given the chance.**

**Hope to see you there!**

**James Potter-Captain.**

"What bullshit!" Ron laughed, "We would love to have you all play if given the chance!" Ron mimicked. "Oh yeah, I bet they're forced to write something like that by McGonagall or someone."

"Oh, Ron! Hush up!" Hermione scolded, quickly glancing at Harry. He was skimming over the bulletin paper a second time.

"Do you think I could make it?" he asked.

"Harry, think about that question one more time, and then ask us again with a more valuable inquiry worth our time." Hermione smiled. She was delighted to see a hint of smugness enter his eyes. This only caused her smile to develop into a grin. "Oh no, being the youngest seeker in a century sure hasn't gone to his head, Ron."

Ron chuckled.

"In fact, I think Harry asked us that so that we could reassure him of how marvelously, brilliant, talented, clever, and proficient he is at Quidditch. You'd almost think that he was…"

"We get it Hermione!" Harry laughed. After a few moments of the trio's silent laughter, Harry's expression became solemn, "But seriously, guys. Do you really think it's wise for me to try out for the team? I mean, what if I change the future somehow, what if…"

"Oh, Harry," Hermione sighed, "do you really propose to use your time in the past doing absolutely nothing? Dumbledore told us we'd be here for the entire school year. Do you expect to live like a hermit for nine months? As long as we're careful, nothing awful can happen." she said firmly.

"This is coming from the one who was paranoid about a Firebolt…" Ron muttered.

Hermione grew indignant, "I was worried about Harry's welfare! I didn't know that Sirius was innocent back then. Blame a girl for having some concern about her best friend!"

"We don't blame you, Hermione." Harry quickly interjected, noticing the anger in his friend's eyes. He knew that there was still unfinished business between the two and he didn't want to get caught in the middle once more.

"We understand. That's a nice sweater you've got. A bit chilly out, isn't it? I heard it was supposed to rain tonight. Shouldn't we be heading down to dinner? I'm famished." he said.

"Subtle, Harry. _Real _subtle." Ron smiled softly.

Hermione was beaming again, "C'mon, Captain Obvious. We need to fill your belly full of brain food." She seized his arm and began to drag him out of the dormitories.

"Hey! I resent that!" he half heartedly argued.

Ron patted his shoulder, "Calm down, Harry. Don't hurt yourself."

And unto Harry's demise, Ron said it with the most serious face!

Harry couldn't help it. He began laughing again for all that he was worth. It was at times like these where he truly appreciated his friends. He didn't know what he would do without them.

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Harry, Ron, and Hermione reached the bottom of the staircase and were about to enter the Great Hall for the second time in 1976, when Harry stopped short. "Hey, guys, I have to get my wand—I left it in the room. I'll be back down in a few minutes." he called over his shoulder as he began to run up the steps.

Hermione and Ron shrugged, walking in through the towering wooden oak doors.

Harry knew that it wasn't necessary to always carry his wand, especially if he was only attending dinner, but it gave him comfort in this world that he had only known for a few hours; and he didn't want to be caught without it.

Harry forcefully bumped into another person, knocking them both down to the ground. "Sorry about that," he said, looking at the person he collided with. Any other intended words died on his lips when he found himself gazing into his very own eyes.

Lily Evans sat before him.

His _mother _was sitting right in front of him!

One would have to take over Harry's body, mind, and soul to know the exact feelings that were rushing through his body at that particular moment. Prominently, Harry was yet again overjoyed. He never really expected to meet his mother in all of his years at Hogwarts.

He had already seen her at lunch in the Great Hall, though; when she was defending him from his dad. A bittersweet smile crept onto his face. After all of the scenarios that he had played out in his mind of his mother, father, and himself meeting; that surely hadn't been one of them.

"It's alright, Harry." she warmly smiled.

He stood up and helped her to her feet. She was a rough five inches shorter than him.

Harry must have gotten his height from his dad.

An extended silence followed. "Er…thanks for—for today." Harry found himself saying. Lily's smile slowly evaporated.

"Oh, don't let James bother you, okay? He talks tough, but his bark is worse than his bite."

"He seemed kind of alright to me…" Harry tried weakly.

"Harry, it's alright if you don't think the best of the bozo quartet. All that they ever do is play vindictive pranks on students and teachers. They're a big group of prats; and that is that, end of story"

Harry sighed; he knew he wasn't getting anywhere. A fleeting thought flew through his mind; he hadn't asked Lily her name! Of course he _knew _her name, but she didn't know that…"Well, it was nice meeting you…?"

"Lily. Lily Evans." she said, a smile visible again.

"I know that we haven't known each other very long, Lily, but would you mind hanging out sometime?" he asked.

God, how much time he wanted to spend with his mom; getting to know everything possible about her before Dumbledore came to retrieve them. Harry watched in confusion as her expression grew slightly guarded and distant from the sociable warmness she had previously expressed.

'Oh no, she's taking that the wrong way. Mother, eww!' he thought.

His eyes grew wide, "Whatever you're thinking, it is most likely not the situation. Just between you and me, I prefer to swing on the other side of the fence lately."

Lily grew relaxed again and was smiling at him again. "Really? I've never really met someone who…who…"

"Was a pouf?" Harry finished with a self humorous grin.

"You're not a pouf, Harry!"

"Oh, I've come to terms with it, Lily." he laughed.

"Don't you dare mock yourself, Harry Johnson! Not in my presence. Being the role of my new friend, I will accept no such nonsense." she said, and lightly punched him in the arm. "You're not too bad, Johnson."

"Well, I didn't think I was bad to begin with."

"Hmm, a pouf _and_ a swelled head to match. Maybe I was wrong in defending you today," Lily laughed.

"Ouch, Lilian, that really hurt."

"Oh come on, you. Let's go down to dinner. I'm sure Ron and Hermione are waiting for you."

"Let's." Harry smiled, extending his arm. Lily shook her head at Harry's childishness. Nonetheless, she entwined her arm through his and began to walk down the stairs with him. For some unknown reason, Lily felt an odd attachment to this guy, but why go against it? Maybe Harry was just incredibly likable.

Harry beamed at his mother. She was really quite a card. Somehow in the middle of their conversation, Harry had forgotten all about retrieving his wand.

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Several eyes watched as Harry and Lily entered the Great Hall together, most suspicious, and a few beaming. Ron and Hermione felt oceans and oceans of relief wash over them knowing that Harry could get along with at least one of his parents.

They hoped that his relationship with James would patch up soon, for Harry's all around well being.

Harry energetically plopped down ungracefully onto the table bench for the second time that day; he reached for a chicken leg and took a hungry bite from it. He hadn't eaten much at lunch, and he hadn't eaten breakfast at all.

Lily was sitting next to Harry, an insecure air about her, you would've thought this was a polar opposite girl from the whole disaster a few hours ago. Apparently, she didn't know what to think of Harry's other friends.

Hermione beamed at Harry's mom, it was weird meeting your best friend's mother for the first time—especially if she was your age. "Hi, I'm Hermione Granger, and this is Ron."

A tentative smile crept onto Lily's face. "Nice to meet you two, I'm Lily."

"So, are you and Harry pals now?" Ron asked, barely containing his happiness for his er…friend…

"We literally bumped into each other," Harry said after one loud swallow, "I'm afraid I revealed my deepest darkest secret in the process though," he said purposefully, shooting a firm glance at Ron.

Ron's eyes filled with query.

"What deep dark secret, Harry?" Hermione asked imploringly.

"I am afraid I can't tell you just yet, Hermione. I have to have a little talk with someone before I do." he cut off all eye contact showing his friends that the subject was closed.

Apparently Lily was very observant.

She raised her eyebrows, glimpsing at a confusion filled look on Ron's face.

"But Harry, you don't know anyone in this t—school." Hermione stumbled over her words. Hermione received no grace of an answer, so she sighed crossly and turned to her red headed friend. "Ron, I think that I've waited long enough for an apology…" she said.

"Apology? For what?" Ron scoffed with scorn.

Hermione's face began to flush with her old anger, "You know very well what. Or should I refresh your memory? Let's see…abandoning me and Harry on the train ride, sitting with two bimbos doing god knows what, conspiring with our supposed _friends _behind our backs, oh, and ridiculing my boyfriend." Hermione finished with a dangerously soft tone.

Lily's eyebrows must have disappeared into her hairline by this point in time.

"I don't see where I need to apologize, I'm sorry that you always come to conclusions! You and Harry both!" he spat.

"Ron…" Harry tried.

"Stay _out _of this, Harry!"

"Ron! Harry hasn't done anything to you, where do you assume the right to yell at him when it is _you _who has done something wrong!" Hermione yelled.

"What _I _have done!"

"Now we're getting somewhere!" Hermione shouted.

"You're the one who went and sucked Ackerly's face in front of the whole school!"

"He's my boyfriend! I'm allowed to quote, 'Suck his face'! I don't see why you have such a problem with that, you aren't and never will be part of my personal life, Ronald!"

Ron's eyes shone with hurt as he forcefully stood up and exited the Great Hall. Harry frantically turned to Lily and said, "Explain to Hermione what was so blatantly obvious would you?" he whispered hoarsely.

Harry yet again went chasing after Ron, trying to make sense out of these all too often quarrels between him and Hermione. He didn't have to go far; Ron was slumped against a near wall of the corridor. Harry sat next to him in silence.

"Ron, I think that we need to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about, Harry." Ron mumbled, closing his eyes.

"Ron, I think that we should go back to the way that we were before, just friends, just strictly platonic friends…"

Ron's head shot over to the direction of Harry, and he saw twice the pain in those light blue eyes than before.

Harry hastily said, "I don't want to hurt you, Ron, but there are some things in this life that I won't do. I won't play second fiddle in your eyes; it is obvious by the lack of communication about our relationship status that you didn't really want to get that involved."

Ron opened his mouth to speak, but Harry yet again cut off his words.

"And it is so obvious that you love Hermione, mate," Harry smiled sadly, "and despite what she said, she feels the same way, as I've said not too long ago. Ron, Paul Ackerly wasn't her boyfriend. Originally it was a plan on my part to get you riled up so that you'd spill that secret of yours, and I guess it spiraled way out of control. I don't want to get caught in the middle of this, Ron, so go after her; I'll be fine."

And with those parting words, Harry stood up and walked away.

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Harry slowly trudged his way back to the Gryffindor Tower. Harry knew that he had grown somewhat more attached to Ron over the past few days, but Harry knew he'd get over it. It was a good thing that nothing had been declared, Harry thought.

He wanted to just drift off into sleep again, he didn't want to think. On the bright side; his mother didn't despise him…

Boy, was that some bright side.

Pathetic, really.

Harry opened the door to the Sixth Year dormitories. The other guys shouldn't be in for a couple hours. Harry stopped in his tracks as he noticed a second occupant in the room.

A sixteen year old boy with coal black hair, and stunning dark blue eyes was sprawled out on the bed next to Harry's. It was Sirius.

It was _Sirius…_

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_T.B.C._

_M.R._


	6. 101 Ways

_Harry opened the door to the Sixth Year dormitories. The other guys shouldn't be in for a couple hours. Harry stopped in his tracks as he noticed a second occupant in the room._

_A sixteen year old boy with coal black hair, and stunning dark blue eyes was sprawled out on the bed next to Harry's. It was Sirius._

_It was **Sirius**…_

Chapter 6

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Harry's breathing hitched at the sight of his godfather. He knew that he wasn't quite ready for a confrontation with Sirius—not yet. But fate was a cruel and sinister thing that you just couldn't change. Though, Harry wondered, if he would be able to alter his loved one's fates…after all, he _was _in the past with future knowledge…

Oh how easy it would be to just wrap his arms around James and Lily; revealing their relations and future.

Though it would be just as easy for them to assume him completely bonkers. So many things could go wrong, and Harry knew that he couldn't intervene with the course of fate. He could only enjoy his few months with his dead loved ones, Harry thought bittersweetly.

But one could dream.

Sirius hadn't noticed him enter yet. He was absorbed in a book, unaware of his future god son standing in shock before him. This only frustrated Harry more so.

He ran a nervous hand through his hair and said, "Er…hi," walking over to his own bed. Sirius's eyes darted upwards at Harry's voice. Harry noticed that he was having the same difficulty…well, doing _anything_.

Several emotions played on Sirius's face, and Harry knew that he was torn between his friendly, jovial self and James' great dislike for Harry. "Hey," he said, his eyes quickly looking down at his book.

Harry resisted the great urge to roll his eyes at his godfather; in the future, Sirius wouldn't have ignored him so. But, Harry realized, this wasn't his dead Sirius from the future.

"What are you reading?" Harry asked.

With a sigh, Sirius must have realized that he wasn't going to escape that easily. He sat up and marked his place, handing the thick book over to Harry, a calm and serious expression on his face.

Harry raised an eyebrow; grabbing hold of the book.

His eyes widened and face flushed at the title of the book, '101 Ways to Fornicate with a Dragon.' Harry gaped at his godfather.

Sirius's lip was trembling and all of a sudden the sixteen year old burst out in hearty laughter. He was clutching his stomach from laughing so hard. He sputtered, "Y-you sh-should have s-seen your f-face." He began to laugh even harder.

Harry watched his godfather in concern for his mental stability.

Sirius wiped tears of mirth from his eyes and outstretched his hand for the book. Harry complied and handed it to him. He saw Sirius tap the cover with his wand; handing it back to Harry. It now read, '101 Ways to Land Your Enemy in the Hospital Wing Without Detention.'

"Well now, that's a whole lot better, in a way." Harry smiled.

"Yep, got to keep old Snivellus on his toes." Sirius grinned.

Harry almost nodded, but then realized that this Sirius didn't know that Harry knew of their Marauder information. He dutifully asked, "Who's Snivellus?"

"Oh, just that greasy git Snape. Slytherin. Biggest nose on the face of the planet; couldn't have missed him," Sirius chuckled.

Harry found himself smiling at the expense of his Potion's Professor. He noticed that Sirius seemed more at ease than before.

He was glad.

"So what are you doing up here? Don't you usually hang out with James, Remus, and Peter?" Harry asked.

Sirius frowned, remembering their non friend status, "They're out."

"Oh," Harry said, his smile vanishing. Sirius was closing up on him; and fast. "I'm really sorry about earlier. I never meant to make James upset."

Sirius didn't answer for awhile, "It's really not my place, Harry. You're an alright bloke, but James was awful mad at you for giving Peter a death glare. Not to mention walking into dinner; arms linked with his crush." Sirius said.

"Lily and I…"

"What about you and Lily, Johnson?" a cold voice asked.

Harry saw James, Peter, and Remus standing in the doorway. Peter looked considerably frightened, his round features in indecision. Remus looked like he wanted to interfere; stopping the whole argument altogether, but was held back by his respect for his friendship.

James looked absolutely murderous.

Harry's heart clenched. He felt completely worthless under his father's loathing sneer. Harry tore his gaze away painfully; he didn't want to look into those disgust filled depths any longer.

"I asked you a question, _Johnson_, or are you too thick headed to respond?"

"We're friends, James, nothing more." Harry assured softly.

"Oh _really_? Getting all chummy with Evans after she saved your little arse this afternoon? Pathetic." he spat.

Harry didn't respond; he looked down as his father continued to chew him out. He didn't notice the indecisive dark blue eyes gain a flicker of anger.

"What about _Peter, _huh? Don't you think that you owe him an apology?" James said angrily.

Harry looked up at the trembling boy standing a little behind James. Harry almost spat back 'No, that bloody rat doesn't deserve an apology. He doesn't deserve his miserable little _pathetic _life, Father. He really doesn't.'

But instead he said, "I'm sorry, Peter. It was a misunderstanding."

Four sets of eyes gawked at his ready apology. It was almost as if her were _obeying _James like a child would. James soon gained his composure and plopped down next to Harry, wrapping an arm around him.

For a second, Harry thought that everything was okay now.

Only for a second.

"Like I said this afternoon, Johnson. Watch your back. I don't like little shits who mock. What, do you think that you can utter an insincere apology and expect to be the best of pals?"

James laughed coldly.

Harry winced.

"Think again," he said and pushed Harry away from his body in revulsion. "As for Evans, do whatever you want with her. She's not worth my time." He stood up and walked out of the door. Remus and Peter walked off with their friend.

Sirius arose to follow, but his eyes lingered on the heartbroken expression resting upon Harry's face before he stepped out of the threshold, clicking the wooden door shut behind him.

Harry stared at the shut door miserably and let himself fall onto his back, lying on his new four poster bed. He rubbed his eyes under his glasses and sighed. He wished that his father could accept him for who he was; Harry used to think so highly of him, glowing in elation when he was complimented on his resemblance to James in several ways.

But he was beginning to wonder; was that really a compliment…or an insult?

All of a sudden, Harry longed for his old bed in his old room with his old friends there to comfort him. He wished that he would never have had the chance to see how his father really was.

It was tearing him up on the inside.

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Morning came all too soon. Harry's eyes blinked open. He was curled up in a ball on his bed; still fully clad in his day clothes. His neck was sore; Harry avoided moving it as much as possible.

Hangings were pulled around all of the other beds in the room; apparently everyone had returned and gone to sleep.

Harry frowned as he gazed at Ron's closed curtains. He must have been pretty upset with him; Harry didn't really want to find out. With a painful turn of his neck, Harry saw that it was quarter to six in the morning.

Might as well get a head start, Harry thought.

Harry lifted himself off of the bed with a small heave; stumbling toward the attached bathroom. Immediately he walked over to the sinks; splashing cold water on his face. Looking in the mirror, Harry saw that his eyes were bloodshot; his complexion pasty white.

Harry sighed, turning the shower tap onto hot.

When Harry had sleepily walked into the bathroom he hadn't noticed the single bed empty of an occupant.

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A light mist floated over the cold, hard earth of a nearby forest. It was almost pitch black; the stars hiding behind ominous grey clouds. Usually, the only sound that could be heard was the faint sound of the crickets' soft song, and the occasional snap of a twig from a magical creature passing by.

But tonight…tonight was different.

Hushed gruff voices could be heard; figures in black robes could be made out in the darkness…their white masks prominent in the darkness.

Other than their similar attire, these particular figures had one thing in common.

Ten minutes previous, their left forearms burned with the call of the Dark Lord. They all slowly formed a circle around Voldemort himself, bowing down as their ranks of inferiors.

They waited.

A dark and deep voice emitted from the dark wizard; showing complete authority. "Wormtail…"

"Y-Yes, Master?" said a trembling youthful voice.

"Inform me of anything worth my time at your post." the Dark Lord said, his voice barely showing a hint of annoyance at the adolescent.

"W-well, there h-have b-been some older students f-forming a Defense g-group. Trying to educate t-themselves more…"

"I clearly stated 'Worth my time'" Voldemort said.

Peter Pettigrew knew that if he didn't tell the Dark Lord what he wanted to hear, then he'd be facing searing pain this evening.

"There are t-three new students, Master. One t-that looks exactly like J-James. He s-seems to be acting odd a-around me. A-almost as if h-he k-knows. T-the other two are his best f-friends."

Voldemort raised an eyebrow, "Tell me more, I am intrigued."

"For once," an older Death Eater interjected humorlessly to himself. Voldemort rounded about, facing the outspoken man.

"Did I _ask _for your opinion, Dayne?" he asked dangerously.

"N-no, M-Master." He stuttered, not particularly wanting to have an unforgivable inflicted upon himself tonight.

"Because if you have one, I am positive that I have 101 ways to quiet it without lifting my wand."

"I-I h-h-have no o-opinion, M-Master."

"That was what I thought," turning back to Peter, "Go on."

"W-well, um, they all say that t-they're orphans, a-and went to B-Beauxbaton. But they a-act kind of o-odd. W-when J-James asked H-Harry about h-how his parents d-died; he…"

"He what, Pettigrew?"

"He g-glared at m-me a-as if I-I d-did it." Peter whispered.

All of the Death Eaters awaited in silence as their Master stared off into the foggy horizon, not making a sound. The crickets' nocturnal melody rang in their alert ears. All of a sudden, he spoke, "Very well, keep an eye on these three, you are all dismissed."

With a swish of his robes, Voldemort dissapparated.

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Harry sat in the Potions classroom next to Hermione. Harry noticed that Ron wasn't speaking to either of them, and he was sitting with—to his obvious distaste—Severus Snape.

The setup of desks was significantly different from the future that Harry was used to. At the head of the room, naturally, was Ms. Thoarne's desk; the ingredients cupboard alongside.

Instead of all of the desks facing her desk, they lined both walls, facing the opposite. There was a large pathway in the center leading towards the door. Apparently, Ms. Thoarne liked to lecture smack dab in the center of the classroom; walking up and down the aisle to gaze and criticize the various bubbling cauldrons.

No wonder Snape is such a git, Harry thought, with the Marauders' taunting and the horrible example of Ms. Thoarne…

Harry tried not to look across the room at his father and Sirius paired together. But it was almost as if his eyes were being _pulled _toward their direction. A great burning need of acceptance was coursing through him.

What was wrong with him? Why couldn't they accept him?

Hermione whispered loudly, "_Harry_, please! Pay _attention_. We have to do well on this!" she said, gesturing at the boiling substance inside of their cauldron. Harry nodded, adding his thistle roots just in the nick of time.

You can say it Hermione, Harry mused, you don't want me to botch up your grade. He shook his head with a smile; eyes drifting towards the magnetic pull.

James and Sirius were talking softly as they added their ingredients. Apparently, they were four steps behind Hermione and himself. James looked down into his text book, leafing through the pages, as if trying to find something.

Sirius's dark blue gaze lifted and locked with Harry's. Harry felt everything freeze; his thoughts…his _breathing_…

Sirius gave him a quick smile after a moment and returned to chopping his thistle roots.

Harry could have died just right there. So, Sirius didn't hate him, and he doubted Remus did. He'd have to talk to the werewolf one of these days.

Harry really didn't give a damn if _Pettigrew_ liked him or not.

Obviously James was the only one holding a grudge against him. Harry straightened in his seat; he was determined to talk things through with his father.

No matter what, Harry wasn't wasting another precious minute of his time back in the past.

"_Harry! _For the love of Merlin, _please _don't screw up our potion!" Hermione said desperately, grasping his hand that was about to dump in the pomegranate seeds instead of the shredded mistletoe.

"Thanks," he smiled sheepishly at his friend. Her bulging eyes grew smaller; her face smiling once more.

"Why don't you take a break to daydream about whoever it is." she teased.

But to Harry's complete befuddlement, why did he blush and turn away?

Five minutes later, he caught himself watching his godfather laugh quietly at something that James had said.

He had a beautiful smile.

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_T.B.C._

_M.R._


	7. Of Seekers and Fatal Mistakes

"_Why don't you take a break to daydream about whoever it is." she teased._

_But to Harry's complete befuddlement, why did he blush and turn away?_

_Five minutes later, he caught himself watching his godfather laugh quietly at something that James had said._

_He had a beautiful smile._

Chapter 7

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By the reoccurring bite of chilly air and the summer sun growing less harsh, Sirius knew that fall was coming a lot sooner this year than expected. Winter would most likely drag out for an exceedingly long period of time, when it came, but Sirius didn't mind much.

Winter was his favorite season; the sheer beauty of the falling snowflakes covering the land in an elegant white blanket. Thus, Christmas was naturally his favorite holiday out of the year.

Sirius hardly ever spent the Christmas holidays at the Black Manor; his family didn't like bothering with the whole ordeal of Christmas festivities. Usually, on Christmas morning, all that his parents would do was hand himself and Regulus a check of a couple hundred galleons.

No, he generally spent the holidays over at the Potter residence. Mr. and Mrs. Potter were just the nicest people that he had ever had the blessing to meet. In all actuality, he spent most of his time at the Potters'; he hadn't been back to the Manor since the first week of the summer holidays.

He had packed his bags, not looking back.

At first, he felt as if he were burdening Mr. and Mrs. Potter with his unofficial residency, but they didn't ask him a single question; acting as if he was just over for one very long visit with James.

James and himself had been the best of mates since their first train ride to Hogwarts in their First Year, instantly taking a liking to the other. They had been inseparable ever since. Yes, once the school year began, they added two more to their duo.

Remus, a shy intellect, was a still water that ran deep. Sirius had been a little closer to Remus than James had been, initially it had been he who had sought out his friendship.

As for Peter, it was the complete opposite. James was the one who wished for friendship in the small boy who was a little too cowardly. Sirius, to this day, wasn't exactly close to him.

And as all four of them sat under their large oak tree on this Saturday afternoon attempting to finish their homework, excluding Remus who had already completed his; with him it was schoolwork first—and then fun, Sirius looked at his original best friend, James.

He was sprawled on the grassy earth, a feather quill resting in his palm. He was explaining how to execute a certain rather difficult Arithmancy problem with Peter. Yes, Sirius thought, James the ever thoughtful and patient friend. Boundless loyalty and a kind heart.

Though, why was he holding such a grudge against Harry Johnson? Sirius could understand him being a little upset over Harry's blatant distaste for Peter, but in his opinion, Harry wasn't mocking James when he apologized.

In fact, he didn't really think that Harry wanted things to be this way at all with them. However, knowing James like he did, Sirius knew that once you graced his friend's bad side, you were going to have a rough time getting on the good.

James Potter had quite the temper when threatened or upset.

Even though he knew that Harry most likely didn't particularly deserve most of James' treatment, Sirius knew where his loyalties lied for the current time being.

He just hoped that James didn't go too far.

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For the most part, the Gryffindor common room was relatively empty. Harry sat in the company of Hermione and Lily as they worked on their piles of homework. Hermione needn't bother; hers had been finished the previous day.

So, to be more exact; Harry and _Lily _worked on their piles of homework as Hermione kept them company, knitting and crocheting her infamous house elf clothes—not that she intended to use means of hiding them for the elves to accidentally pick up. Harry had told her about the sole responsibility of Dobby to clean the common room, and with her concern for his well being, she quit.

In the past, she hadn't had the chance to ask an elf if they would like one though, Harry doubted it would be much longer.

Lily sighed next to him, letting her head fall against the back of her chair. "It is a perfectly beautiful Saturday, and we're stuck inside doinga _Potions _essay."

Harry smiled, "Well then I guess you'd better get a move on."

Lily gave him a cross look.

Harry chuckled at his mother, placing his parchment on the table in front of him. He turned to face both girls, "Why don't we take a break? We could go take a walk or something and finish this later." He suggested.

Hermione gave him a cross look.

Harry almost cried out in exasperation. "Hermione, I really think that we should take a rest. We'll finish it before tryouts tomorrow, I swear." He said.

Contemplation shrouded her face as she glanced at Lily and Harry before she said, "Oh, _alright_. I suppose a short walk couldn't hurt."

Lily looked absolutely delighted. "Let me go grab my jacket, I'll be back in a minute," she said; completely abandoning her schoolwork.

"D'you think that Ron would want to come?" Harry asked with a small wince.

Hermione sighed, "I honestly doubt it, Harry. I kind of feel sorry for yelling at him, I didn't think that he would get this upset," she said with a frown. Harry watched his best friend with guilt.

It didn't feel right making her believe that she was the reason of his mood.

"Hermione, I think that I should tell you something, especially if you want to get with Ron." he said.

Her eyes grew round, and her lips parted to deny, but Harry cut her off, "Don't even try, Hermione," he smiled, "because you can't fool me. I've known you too long."

Lily appeared at the foot of the steps, "Okay, I'm ready. Let's go."

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"Okay, so you're telling me that you and Ron…er…were…" Hermione fumbled, her face tinted pink.

"Actually, no, we weren't. It was only once, and a complete and total mistake." Harry said softly.

Harry, Lily, and Hermione walked along the castle grounds in a small huddle. Harry stood in the middle of them as they talked in hushed voices. Lily didn't seem too surprised as she remained in silence, allowing Harry to explain to Hermione.

"So you two…?"

"Once, Hermione."

Hermione nodded her head; trying to demonstrate understanding. But the thing was; she didn't understand. Not at all.

"Harry, why didn't it last?" she asked softly.

"There was nothing there to begin with. We were meant to be friends and friends alone. Besides," Harry smiled impishly, "I think Ron has his eyes set on another particular young lady whom I give my blessings to."

Hermione's face was tinted red now.

"But, Harry…Are you sure? I mean, it would feel kind of…odd…"Hermione said with a frown.

"Positive. Look, I want you to understand that there are no ties between us besides the old ones of friendship. We were both just upset."

"Well…if you two did…then wouldn't he be…?" she managed.

Harry chuckled, "You have nothing to worry about. Ron likes girls."

Hermione slightly nodded, avoiding Lily and Harry's stare. There was a stretched out silence between the three before Lily broke it, "So, you're trying out for Seeker? That's a hard position to fill," she said.

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Well, you have to go against _James_, Harry. I mean, no offense or anything, but he _is _really good…" Lily said with obvious reluctance.

Hermione smirked in an unHermioneish way, "Well, Lily, it _does _run in his blood. His father was a first-rate Quidditch player in his school years."

Harry shot Hermione a look.

Lily looked intrigued, "Really? Have you played Quidditch before?"

"He's been a Seeker on our House team for several years. Practically unbeatable." Hermione bragged with pride.

"Oh, then I guess you shouldn't worry about it." Lily smiled, but it quickly melted, "Look who it is," she said softly with distaste.

Hermione and Harry both turned their heads to see none only but the Marauders sitting under a large tree; mere feet away. Apparently, the trio had been spotted as well.

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"Hey, Moony. Isn't the full moon coming up soon?" Sirius whispered to his friend.

A frown formed on Remus's face, "Yeah."

Sirius gave him a soft look; he hated the fact that one of his best friends had to suffer like that every single month. "Don't worry about it, okay? We'll be there." Sirius softly assured.

"I know," Remus sighed with a weak smile.

"Look who it is." Sirius heard James say quietly. Remus, Peter, and Sirius all lifted their heads to see Harry Johnson, Hermione Granger, and Lily Evans walking together in a small huddle, whispering about something.

Sirius felt dread as he looked over to see James' seething expression. Sirius looked back to see Lily wrap an arm around Harry with a big smile which quickly vanished as her gaze locked with theirs.

Within seconds, all of their gazes were locked.

Sirius noted that Harry was staring at him; he quickly tore his eyes away; looking to the ground.

Harry had piercing emerald eyes; they were so stunning.

"Hey, Johnson!" James called as he stood up; "What would your royal arse be doing in the likes of our mediocre company?"

"We were just leaving!" Lily spat.

"Evans! What do you _see_ in that jerk? What, do you think that he's better than us because his parents are dead? Is that it? Are you all having just a dandy pity party? Why wasn't I invited?" he taunted.

Lily turned around, letting go of Harry's arm as she walked over to James, "Do you know what?" Lily began in an unnaturally soft tone, "What I _see_ in Harry is a caring friend, that's what! And you have NO right to say things like that when you don't even know!"

Lily whispered to him so that only they could hear; her voice nonetheless furious, "How would it feel if _your _parents were dead? Forever? You'd never see their happy faces or hear their warm words ever again. There is no pity party with us, because Harry is strong. And you weren't invited because you didn't want to be!"

And with that, she slapped his face with a sounding 'smack'.

"Leave Harry alone, Potter," she said, her emerald eyes on fire, "your problem is with me and me alone."

"Don't flatter yourself, Evans." James said with a scowl, clutching his cheek.

"Don't worry, I'm not. You already have," she called, "Or is that so easily forgotten?" Lily began to walk away with Hermione. Harry lingered a second before he turned to catch up with them.

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Harry wasn't very hungry. He nibbled at his toast as his thoughts overcame him. Last night had been a blur; after his Mom and Dad had their fight, they had returned to the Gryffindor Tower to finish their homework.

Hours had flown by like minutes and they all had said their goodnights, heading off to bed. Ron was already asleep; his hangings pulled shut around his bed, as usual. Harry hated how distant Ron had been these last few days toward them, and he doubted that Ron felt any better about the situation.

They were back in a different time period, and all that they had was each other.

That was it.

But every time Harry awoke, Ron was always already gone, and he only briefly saw him in classes. Harry didn't know where Ron went for the rest of the day, but Harry found himself sorely missing his best friend.

Sure, Hermione and Lily were wonderful company, but it just wasn't the same. Lily was his mother, and Hermione was his girl best friend. No, it wasn't the same. With Ron he could always discuss anything that was on his mind; whether it be Quidditch, slimy Slytherin gits, or even girls.

This morning was the Seeker tryouts, and even though he'd have the support of Hermione and his Mom, deep down he wished he'd have Ron's as well. He hated when they had these fights.

It was a little past eight, and Harry would soon have to be down at the Quidditch Pitch; face to face with his Father. Harry didn't know if he'd be able to handle more rejection from him. Like it or not, James was his father,and knowing that your Dad openly hated you didn't do wonders for your self esteem.

The rekindled feelings of hope had been slowly dwindling over the course of this first week. First his Dad, and then _Ron_…Hermione and Lily had been keeping his spirits up though.

And Sirius…

His godfather intrigued him; he was ever loyal to James, and it was clear that Sirius truly felt as if he were a brother to his Dad. He was indeed headstrong and opinionated which Harry saw from several classroom fiascos in this past week. Sirius seemed to have a fair grasp on his subjects, but most of all, he was genuinely happy.

The Sirius that he knew had always had a melancholy glint in his same dark blue eyes. The route that his life had taken had been exceptionally rough and painful, and the carefree sixteen year old that Harry now saw every day seemed like a complete different person.

This only hurt Harry more. Why did all the people that he loved have to have a harsh and cursed life? Harry would give anything to have them lead the lives that they were supposed to lead. If only he could…

No, he thought. I couldn't, I would be messing with things that aren't supposed to be touched. It would be abusing Dumbledore's gift of the few months with his parents again.

With Sirius again.

"Harry? I think that we should probably head down to the Quidditch Pitch now. Tryouts begin in ten minutes." Lily said.

Harry looked at his mother; his mother that he had only just met. The mother that had died to save him. His mother who protected him with her undying love. The sight of her warm face made him want to run into her arms and tell her about Peter Pettigrew. Tell her about that fateful Halloween night.

He wanted her comforting embrace, but he knew that he'd never have that.

He wasn't meant to have it.

"Okay," he said, tearing his gaze away from her face.

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"Good morning, everyone!" James Potter called to the few dozens of Hogwarts students who had showed up for Seeker tryouts. Harry stood roughly in the center of the long line of teens standing on the Quidditch Pitch; James hadn't quite noticed him yet.

There were several supporters sitting in the stands.

"Well, you all know what you're here to do, so let's begin, shall we?" he looked down at a roll of parchment that each of the people trying out had signed. "Okay, first up is Bobby Delzangle. Please come here." James said.

A lanky teen with dirty blonde hair walked over to James. He was instructed to float in the air on his broom and catch as many imitation snitches as possible when thrown in several directions.

Bobby caught sixteen out of thirty.

Apparently, that wasn't enough for him to try out any further, "Thank you, Bobby, next is…Ashley Perry!" James called. Ashley was fairly better then Bobby; catching twenty out of thirty snitches. She partook in a race around the Quidditch Pitch with James.

She sorely lost.

"Derek Lexington." James called, Harry sighed as he let his gaze wander to the baby blue sky. The sun was currently hiding behind a large puffy white cloud. After a few more names were called, James said, "Next is…Harry Johnson…?" There was obvious disbelief shining in his hazel eyes; they suddenly turned mocking, "Would _Mr. Johnson _please come forward?"

Harry straightened his back as he calmly walked over to his father. A small sneer was on his face when he said softly, "I think that you know the drill by now," handing him a broom.

Harry only nodded as he straddled the broomstick and pushed off of the ground; resting in the air about ten feet up. Before he had time to blink a snitch was soaring past his face. To say that Harry was stunned for having no warning was an understatement, but he felt stupid for thinking that James would make this easy for him.

Harry didn't have time to retrieve the first snitch, for another one was being pelted in the opposite direction. Harry wasn't going to go down this easily. He caught the second snitch with great ease, and the third with speed. James was throwing them every which way, and Harry did not fail to catch every single one of them.

Harry smirked as a beater called out, "Twenty nine out of thirty, James."

To say that James was angry was _also _an understatement.

James quickly pushed off of the ground; hovering mere inches away from Harry. Sirius was the time keeper for the race. He gave Harry a small thumbs up before blowing the whistle. Both Potters were off; neck to neck.

Harry noted that this only infuriated James more. He was thinking about letting his father win, but his better judgment was against it. What if another person here actually beat James? Then Harry would lose the spot.

Harry willed his broom to fly faster, and as they approached the finish line; Harry's broom took off with a burst of speed; beating James by only a second or two—give or take.

James didn't meet his eyes as they both lowered to the ground. Harry could hear Hermione and Lily cheering with all their might. Harry saw James reluctantly gaze at his cheering supporters, and he didn't fail to notice the pain in his eyes.

Harry felt his heart clench painfully.

"Look…James…" he tried.

"Shut up, Johnson—just shut up," he said walking over to the remaining people waiting to try out. Harry's shoulders slumped as he passed Sirius.

"Harry, wait!" Sirius called. Harry turned around incredulously, watching him with disbelieving eyes; Sirius smiled at him, "Results will be posted in the morning. Great job, not many people can beat James at flying," he said.

Harry couldn't tear his eyes from Sirius's face. Harry didn't know why, but Sirius seeking him out to give him a compliment meant so much to him. More than Sirius probably knew.

Sirius quickly averted his eyes, "But anyway, see you around, Harry," he said quietly; walking back to the others. Harry watched his departing form with an odd expression on his face.

He jumped when he felt excited arms wrapping around him.

Lily squealed, "Harry! You were _brilliant_! You actually managed to pull that arrogant git down a few pegs. Congratulations!" she said, pecking him on the cheek.

He could only smile at his mother in amusement, "I haven't earned the spot yet, Lily."

"You've got it," Hermione said proudly, "Don't worry."

As Harry, Hermione, and Lily began to walk out of the Quidditch Pitch; Harry saw a familiar tall red head standing off to the side with a small smile on his face. Harry could only smile back in utter relief. Harry softly waved.

Ron only smiled sadly.

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Later that evening, Harry and Hermione sat by the dying flames in the fireplace in the common room. Lily had gone to bed about an hour ago. Both friends sat in silence, enjoying the other's company.

Harry sighed gazing out the window, the moon was shining brightly. "It's almost full, Hermione. I hope that Remus will be alright," he said quietly.

Hermione began to nod until her eyes suddenly grew round; her face losing its color by the second. "Oh no," she breathed, her frantic eyes looking at Harry. Harry's heart beat sped up at the expression of complete horror on her face.

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_T.B.C._

_M.R._


	8. Gasp!

_Harry sighed gazing out the window, the moon was shining brightly. "It's almost full, Hermione. I hope that Remus will be alright," he said quietly._

_Hermione began to nod until her eyes suddenly grew round; her face losing its color by the second. "Oh no," she breathed, her frantic eyes looking at Harry. Harry's heart beat sped up at the expression of complete horror on her face._

Chapter 8: Gasp!

**Dedicated to: Von (Your review made me smile and finish this)**

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Harry sat forward with an alarmed expression on his face, "Hermione, what is it? What's wrong?" he asked in a hurry. His usually articulate friend resembled a fish out of water, her mouth hanging open; eyes wide.

She breathed, "Harry…the _full moon_…Remus…" was all that she managed.

Harry's worried face cracked a small smile, "Hermione, it'll be alright, really. I mean, my Dad, Sirius and Pettigrew will be with him," he assured.

"But…"

Harry interrupted her, his smile still in place, "And it's not as if they'll be caught or seen or anything. They'll be in animal form, and they have my Dad's cloak. Not to mention that they have the…the…" Harry's smile evaporated as his eyes bulged.

"The Marauder's Map," Hermione finished for him.

"Oh no," Harry whispered, echoing his friend's previous statement.

Hermione began biting her lip. "Harry, do you _realize _how dangerous that is? What happens when they check the map and see your name as Harry _Potter_? How could we have forgotten something like this!" Hermione exclaimed frantically, "We have to _do _something!"

Harry remained silent for a moment.

"Hermione, I know what we can do," he said quietly.

"What?" she asked.

"We have to steal it."

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Breakfast felt different the next morning. Harry kept glancing nervously at Hermione, and naturally, she was doing the same. With every moment that passed, Harry felt that the Marauders would look at their map and find out the truth.

That could not happen.

It just couldn't.

He found himself only staring at his full plate.

Last night, he and Hermione had talked things over. Tonight was the night of the full moon, and they didn't have much time. It was Monday, and he had Transfigurations and Charms in the morning; Care of Magical Creatures and Divinations in the afternoon.

After that, he had an hour until dinner, and after dinner…well, he had mere minutes to steal the map. Hermione had been signed up for a lot more classes than he had, and thus, he wouldn't be seeing her until dinner.

Paranoia, fear, nervousness, and dread filled Harry's emotions. No, scratch that. He felt damn angry! Why would Dumbledore have sent them back without devising one of his schemes to take the map away for their visit or something?

Dumbledore may have been old, but he was not senile or forgetful.

Harry shot a glare at the younger headmaster at the head of the Hall. Said headmaster was eating kippers heartily, just screaming obliviousness to Harry's glower. This only deepened Harry's frustration.

Harry stabbed a sausage forcefully.

"Harry," Lily frowned, "Are you alright? You seem…a bit…edgy."

The sound of her voice burst his bubble of fury at the old man and he dropped his fork with wide eyes. He looked at her and coughed, answering albeit shakily, "Um, no, I'm good—great! What—what would give you that idea?"

Lily's concerned frown only seemed to grow deeper. "But…"

"Lily, honestly I feel great, never better. I just couldn't sleep last night, I'm a little tired; that's all. So, what did you think of…"

"Harry," Lily cut in a little impatiently, "Stop changing the subject. I think that we need to talk. You're acting strange."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Lily yet again interrupted, "Is this about Ron?" she asked as she glanced at his empty seat, "I'm sure he'll come around sooner or later. I mean, he was at the tryouts, and that's something, isn't it? Or is this about the Quidditch positions not being posted this morning?"

Harry's mouth slightly opened. He had completely forgotten about that! They weren't posted yet?

Lily must have mistaken his agape mouth for her guessing what was bothering him. She smiled and grasped his hand tightly, "Don't be worried, Harry. I think I know what the hold up is," she said darkly as she looked in the Marauders direction, "The team probably recognizes that you were the best Seeker out on the pitch, but James is probably being the pompous git that he is and is trying to dissuade their decision."

This only caused Harry's frown to return as his head was once again pulled by an unknown force in their direction. It couldn't have been out of his own accord, he swore. James looked pissed off, Sirius looked annoyed, Remus looked pale, and Peter wasn't there.

Why wasn't he at breakfast?

Harry looked back over to Hermione for the sixtieth time this morning and counting. He jerked his head in their direction to alert her about what was bothering him. She frowned inquisitively and looked over in that direction. After several moments, she finally raised her eyebrows and looked back at Harry.

He sent her a look asking 'What do you think is going on?'

She shrugged her shoulders and gave him her 'I'll talk to you later' look.

Lily sighed, "I honestly can't see why James has such a big grudge against you. If he'd only take the time to get to know you, he'd really like you Harry."

"Oh?" Harry slightly smiled.

Lily chuckled, "In a way you two are the same—excluding your appearance. You both have a determination and ferocity about you. If provoked, Harry, I think you could have a really bad temper."

Hermione laughed.

"And going by Hermione's reaction, I assume she's had the misfortune to have it directed at her in one point in time?" Lily asked with a grin.

"Yes, unfortunately," Hermione smiled as she rolled her eyes at Harry who was giving her an indignant look. "Really bad is an understatement though."

"And a guy thinks he knows who his friends are…" Harry said with a slight upturn of his lips to give away his mood. Lily punched him in the arm. Harry rubbed it with the pretence of being in pain which only set off another round of giggles from Hermione and Lily.

"But seriously, Harry. You have his temper, obviously. You both are loyal to your friends. You are both interested in Quidditch almost to the point of obsession. Both of you have great potential academically, if you'd only _try_ harder. Neither of you are afraid to stand up for yourself, or go to great lengths to prove yourself. Harry, it's almost _eerie_ how alike you two are."

Hermione sent Harry a look from the corner of her eye.

"Remus and Sirius seem to like you well enough. Not sure about Peter though, he seems to have the attitude that whatever James says goes. Maybe _because _you both are so alike is the reason. But when James isn't trying to show off or best someone, he's alright. He's rather sweet actually."

Harry and Hermione raised their eyebrows.

"How do you know that, Lily? I thought you hated him." Hermione interjected. This was too important of a subject to pass up.

Lily sighed and hesitated before replying. "To tell you the truth, Hermione, James and I used to be friends. Good friends. I live in his neighborhood, and we sort of hung with each other as kids. But when…when Bryan…"

Something in her voice cracked.

Harry and Hermione remained silent.

"When his brother Bryan died…he stopped coming out to play. He wouldn't answer when I called. When I knocked, his mom would give me excuses. So, I guess that was the end of our friendship." She added almost bitterly.

"Looking back now, I guess he retreated into himself. But then you can only imagine my surprise at hearing the name James Potter being called out in our First Year." Lily shook her head, "I have to say our reunion wasn't too pleasant. He was already latched to the side with Sirius, and as soon as he saw me, he started throwing insults."

Lily looked down, "He hasn't called me Lily since the day his brother died. Recently he's been sort of 'showing interest' in me. I can't help but think its some cruel way to get back at me. Some way to get back at the memory of Bryan's death."

Harry was speechless. His heart now ached for yet another. Glancing at Hermione, he saw that her eyes were glassy and a little pink. Obviously his friend felt the same way. Hermione looked at him with the message 'Do something.' They must have gotten pretty good at these silent conversations.

His mom seemed half sad; half bitter. He wrapped his arms around her form and she slowly buried her face into his shoulder. Harry awkwardly patted her on the back, which elicited a teary giggle from his mother. She lifted her blotchy face to look at him. "I'm sorry," she apologized; wiping her eyes, "I'm being blubbery."

Lily made to gather her things and leave but Harry caught her arm. "Lily, don't be sorry. But just listen to a word of advice, okay? Give James a chance. I actually think that he really likes you."

"What?" she asked, flabbergasted.

Hermione cut in, "Maybe he never really gave up on your relationship, Lily. He was probably just hurting, and when he got to Hogwarts he met a companion who he couldrely on. Maybe he was trying to get back at the memory of Bryan's death back then, but I think that he's gotten over it and _sorely _wants you back." Hermione softly smiled.

"Sorely, huh?" Lily smiled humorlessly.

"Seriously, Lily." Hermione said.

Lily's smile evaporated. "You really think so?"

"My two best friends are guys. By now I know how their brains work. I think you should give James a chance. And as for showing off…" Hermione smirked good-naturedly.

Lily remained silent for a while. She was apparently lost in her own thoughts. She finally looked at her watch and her eyes grew wide, "I'll talk to you guys later. My first class starts in five minutes."

And with that she hastily exited the Great Hall.

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With the hot and stuffy atmosphere along with Professor Darcinall's perfumed incense, Sirius found it extremely trying to stay in the world of consciousness. His eyes continually slid closed and sprang open moments later. And to top it off, he was stuck with only Peter to talk to. James and Remus had decided to change to Arithmancy.

Peter was an alright bloke, but he was just not a good conversation.

Sleepily looking around the tower, he noticed that Professor Darcinall was saying something, but he had tuned her misty voice out ages ago. There was a bony woman with frizzed out hair, glasses that made her eyes seem four times larger, and wore string after string of beads around her neck. She was seated by Professor Darcinall's desk and was observing her.

Student teacher, then.

He almost felt sorry for the woman who was learning Professor Darcinall's methods. But he felt even more sympathetic towards her future classes. This class was not one huge pushover, it was more of a strain to stay awake.

His eyes rested upon a table a few feet away from his. Harry Johnson sat with his head propped against his hand and was apparently having the same struggle. He sat with his red headed friend, Ron was it? The air between them seemed a little strained.

Sirius's curiosity was peaked. When the three friends had first arrived, they seemed thicker than blood, but then only a week or so into term, Harry and Ron were on non-speaking terms.

What could cause such a fight?

There were dark circles under Harry's eyes; it looked as if he hadn't slept at all last night. Sirius really hoped it had nothing to do with James. Sirius couldn't explain it, but he really wanted to get to know this new enigma.

Harry looked soft spoken and polite on the outside, but something in his emerald eyes told Sirius otherwise. Innocent eyes they were, yet there was darkness in them—almost as if Harry had seen too much; been through just too much for his young sixteen years.

He was slightly shorter than Sirius himself, and his messy jet-black hair looked the same as James's. Oh, Sirius had noticed their similar appearances. Their faces were shaped the same, same nose, same cheekbones, and they both even had poor eyesight. A couple nights ago, Sirius had asked James if he was related to Harry.

Boy did that set James off.

Sirius was getting disgusted with James's attitude towards Harry. Yes, he had made friends with Lily. Probably because he actually was _nice _and not _showing off _around her. Sirius had tried to explain this to James several times as well, but still, James didn't give a damn.

With a sigh, Sirius shifted in his seat.

Sirius didn't think that there was anything going on with Harry and Lily. If anything, they seemed like really good pals. He hadn't seen Lily this social for a long time. Scratch that, ever. She laughed and ditched her work to go for walks with Harry and Hermione which is something he would have died to see in the past.

This morning, James had been about to go over to Lily and Harry and start another insult toss, but then she started crying into Harry's shoulder. To say this startled James was an understatement. Lily Evans supposedly had no emotions besides anger. This newbie had been able to break down her walls.

Sirius was angry with what James did next. He asked Remus to keen in on their conversation. Although, Remus had looked really shocked, he hadn't told James anything. To quote, "It's none of our business," and then the young werewolf had grabbed his bags and left for his class.

Tonight was the full moon. Remus would undergo his transformation. Yes, he had taken his Wolfsbane potion, some new trial potion, but that didn't take the pain away. James, Peter, and him were just distractions to make him forget about the pain.

"No homework tonight, dearies," Professor Darcill said with a far away look in her eyes, "class is dismissed."

Students slowly began to rise from their chairs, stretching their muscles with a yawn. It was the last period of the day, and most were looking forward to having a nice dinner with friends and enjoying a night in the common room, stress free. At Darcill's words, Sirius began to wake up, in all senses, and his pulse began hammering faster.

He was about to scurry out of the suffocating tower when Professor Darcill's wispy voice called, "Mr. Black, Mr. Johnson; I'd like to have a quick word."

Sirius frowned and looked over at Harry to see if he knew anything about this. Apparently Harry was as antsy as he was to leave. There was an urgency flashing in his eyes.

Sirius wondered why he could read him so easily.

Sirius and Harry stood side by side before Professor Darcill. She stood up from her desk and walked over to them both, out of the student teacher's ear shot. "Both of you; please be careful tonight." She warned.

Sirius raised his eyebrows and looked over at Harry to see his reaction. He seemed just as shell-shocked as himself. Before either boy had the chance to respond she began to usher them out of the tower. "Have a nice evening, gentlemen, I am most looking forward to seeing you again on Wednesday."

As soon as they were pushed out of her door, she closed it.

Sirius looked at Harry again in befuddlement. "Do you know what she was talking about?" he asked. She couldn't _possibly _know about the Marauders' rendezvous at the Shrieking Shack tonight. And what was she prattling on about 'being careful' for? There weren't any risks.

Harry shrugged, "To tell you the truth, I think she's a bit batty."

Sirius chuckled, "Quite observant, Johnson. You've been here less than two weeks and you already know the mental status of our so called Professors."

Harry smiled, "She reminds me of my old Divinations teacher, actually."

Sirius winced, "Damn, there's another Darcill out there?"

"Unfortunately." Harry breathed.

Silence ensued, which turned into the type that can prove quite uncomfortable. Sirius was the one to break it, "Well…Harry, I guess I'll see you around." He began to walk down the stairs before Harry called out.

"Wait!" he exclaimed rushing after him. Sirius turned around quizzically. Harry slightly reddened at his outburst. "I…I wanted to ask you something."

**Until next time, guys!**

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**You would've killed me, huh? (Grins) By all means, continue reading!**

"What?" Sirius asked.

Harry caught up with him and stood there for a moment. "Could…could we, um, talk?"

"Talk?" Sirius raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, well, I think we should talk some things over. I mean, I think there are some misunderstandings between us and our friends." Harry's eyes were pleading and he knew it. But this chance probably wouldn't arise again for awhile, even though things were urgent right now.

"No kidding, I hadn't noticed," Sirius smiled sadly.

"Look, I just want you to know that I have nothing against any of you—James included. In fact, I might be partaking in setting him up with Lily soon enough."

Sirius was more than shocked, he was stunned. "What are you talking about? Wait. Does Lily like James?"

Harry chuckled, "I can tell. But, Sirius, has James ever told you about his and Lily's history?"

Sirius nodded, "There's no secrets between us. They used to be pals before Hogwarts and then when his little brother died, he sort of abandoned her. You know, it's no wonder she's been so hostile towards his affections lately. He did sort of treat her badly in our First and Second Year."

"Lily thinks James was trying to get back at Bryan's death." Harry interjected.

Sirius shook his head with a smile, "Merlin, Harry, you sure know a lot. It's kinda creepy; you got an inside source or something?"

"No. Only a confiding friend, Sirius."

"So you and Lily are a no go, then?" Sirius asked with a smirk as he began to walk again. Harry soon followed and their steps fell into walking side by side.

"Why would you think that in the first place?" Harry asked appalled. He had almost forgotten that this Sirius knew nothing of their blood relationship. He caught his mistake too late though.

Sirius yet again raised an eyebrow, "Why is that assumption so shocking? Lily Evans has never been a social little butterfly. As a matter of fact, before you arrived, she never really talked to anyone besides a couple of her girlfriends. But then here you come, and suddenly she jumps to your defense, you are always seen in her presence, and she has even taken to crying on your shoulder."

Harry remained silent. He didn't trust himself to speak.

"Unless," Sirius continued tentatively; watching Harry's expression like a hawk, "She's not your type…"

Still, Harry said nothing.

"Hermione isn't your type either, is she?"

Silence.

"I noticed you and Ron are having a little fight…"

Harry's eyes darted upwards and he could feel the blood rushing to his face.

Sirius continued to watch his expression without even a blink. "Harry, did you and Ron break up?"

Harry suddenly found himself choking on his own saliva. Sirius worriedly broke out of his thoughts and went over to pound Harry on the back. After several moments, Harry slowly lifted his head to look at Sirius.

"How did you…?"

"You always keep your enemies the closest, Harry."

Harry frowned. "So we're enemies then?"

"Politically," Sirius smiled brightly. "But more importantly, are you alright?"

"Alright?" Harry echoed.

"I'm really sorry about James. I'll try to talk to him, but he's stubborn. I know you probably don't need that on top of your break up."

"I guess I'm doing okay. But, why are you alright with this?" Harry asked solemnly, pointing at himself.

Sirius's smile slid off of his face. He found himself entranced by Harry's dark forest green depths. Years seemed to pass by within seconds. He stepped forward towards Harry. His eyes tore away from his eyes and drifted down to his rosy lips. He leaned forward and pressed his lips softly against Harry's.

After Harry's initial shock, he responded cautiously; letting Sirius's tongue slowly enter. He wrapped his arms around his godfather's neck, and felt said godfather's arms envelop his waist.

It was pure bliss.

But then everything shattered as Hermione ran around the corner shouting, "Harry! Come on, we need to…" but then she replaced her words with a gasp as she stopped short in front of them.

Harry and Sirius quickly drew apart as if the other had been ignited on fire.

Hermione only gaped.

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**Okay, this is really the end this time :) **

_T.B.C._

_M.R._


	9. Razor

_After Harry's initial shock, he responded cautiously; letting Sirius's tongue slowly enter. He wrapped his arms around his godfather's neck, and felt said godfather's arms envelop his waist._

_It was pure bliss._

_But then everything shattered as Hermione ran around the corner shouting, "Harry! Come on, we need to…" but then she replaced her words with a gasp as she stopped short in front of them._

_Harry and Sirius quickly drew apart as if the other had been ignited on fire._

_Hermione only gaped._

Chapter 9

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Harry was currently being practically dragged down the corridors by Hermione at a running pace. He had been caught off guard by his best friend; she had been taken aback for several moments but soon recovered and had then grabbed his arm; pulling him down the halls. He was stumbling over his own footsteps and his breaths were spurting forth in heaves; his mind had yet to clear.

Okay so, he had been having a pleasant conversation with his godfather, Sirius had found out about the whole situation with Ron…and Sirius kissed him, then Hermione came to drag him away for some important reason.

Woah, woah, Sirius _kissed _him!

Harry lifted his free hand to touch his lips. His eyes were looking far off in the distance and he didn't realize that Hermione had stopped, thus he crashed into her with a start.

Why were they running again?

Oh yes, important reason.

"Harry!" Hermione hissed, "Now is not the time to wander in la-la land. Concentrate on the situation at hand for a minute, would you? You told me that we'd sneak away from dinner fifteen minutes in so that we could have enough time to get in and get out!"

"Yeah?" Harry asked, his glazed eyes somewhat coming into focus.

"Well, dinner is almost coming to an end, and none of the Marauders are at the table! Not one! It's slightly reassuring to see that Sirius was…with you which tells me we might still have time. Now please!"

"Wake," she said while roughly shaking his shoulders, "Up!"

"Merlin, Hermione , I'm here and wide awake. Let's go." Harry said a little worriedly. He knew that it was his fault for their dilemma, but…argh, he'd deal with this later. They quickly began to run down the corridors until they reached the stairs. Leaping two at a time, they made it up the steps; although, quite out of breath.

When they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, Hermione breathed out, "Open Sesame."

Someone sure had an odd sense of humor this year.

"Hello, dears," the Fat Lady said amiably as she began to slowly open for them. Harry grunted and swung the portrait open all the way. The Fat Lady shrieked and called after them in outrage.

"Come back here, you insolent little…!"

Her cries were left unheard as Harry and Hermione bolted for the Boy's Dormitory staircase. Harry stumbled over a step, but Hermione supported him and soon enough they reach the Sixth Year dorms.

Bursting inside, Harry was prepped to ransack the whole room if need be, but what he saw stopped him short. Remus Jasper Lupin was in mid-step and his expression that of shock as he looked at Harry.

And in his hand was the Marauder's Map.

Oh shit.

Remus looked at Harry, glancing at Hermione, and then his eyes fell down upon the Map. His already ashen face, due to tonight being the full moon, seemed to grow paler; if even possible. All stood in absolute silence—too afraid to speak.

Remus found his voice first. "Harry…what?"

"Look, I can explain…see…" Harry spluttered.

"You know about this, don't you?" Remus asked, pointing to the Map.

"Please don't tell anyone, Remus," Hermione pleaded, "The consequences are too great."

"What exactly is going on?" he asked with wide and confused eyes.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other and came to a mutual agreement. "Do you promise to _never _say anything to James, Sirius, and Peter?" Harry asked gravely. At his young professor's silence, Harry added almost desperately, "Please, Remus!"

Remus nodded quickly.

Harry tried to think of how to explain it, but Hermione got to it first, "Look, this will have to be quick for now. I'm sure they'll be coming to see what the hold up is. But Harry, Ron, and I are from the future. Harry is actually called Harry James Potter and is James's son. We need that Map."

Remus was simply taken aback. His mouth was moving but devoid of any sound.

"We need the Map because if any of the rest of the Marauders find out about Harry's real heritage, things will get sticky and we would most likely end up in another tussle with Voldemort. Please?" she asked, extending her hand.

"Another?" Remus asked almost incredulously.

"Some other time, Remus!" Harry said urgently, "I promise. I'm positive that you can make it tonight without the Map." Harry could practically see the cogs turning in his friend's head.

After a moment of silence, Remus slowly outstretched his hand to give Harry the Map. But instead of saying goodbye and walking away, he only stared at Harry's features; James's features. "Bloody hell…" he breathed.

Hermione gasped as she looked at the Map that lay in Harry's hands, "Remus, they're entering the common room now. You have to go."

He nodded, as if in a daze, and headed for the door. Right when his hand was on the doorknob, Harry sprinted to the door and said, "Remus, wait." He gave the sixteen year old werewolf a tight hug and said, "Take care of yourself tonight."

A small surprised smile slid onto his face as he said, "Thanks." But as he was about to open the door; it was heavily shoved open and Remus slightly stumbled. Harry hastily shoved the Marauder's Map into his robes.

Sirius, James, and Peter all came barreling inside. Having caught sight of the missing quarter of their group they stopped short. Then they seemed to glance over at Harry and Hermione. Harry felt a hot blush stain his cheeks when his eyes met with Sirius's. His godfather seemed surprised to see him and smiled slightly.

Harry averted his gaze over to James, feeling his face grow hotter. His father seemed to not know what to make of the situation. Obviously they were more than just a tad worried as to the reason of Remus's absence. James slowly spoke, "What was taking you, M—Remus?" his eyes slid over to Harry and his eyes raked him up and down; disgust growing brighter in his hazel eyes.

How could the eyes that Harry often found himself watching in that old blue photo album—the very eyes that gazed so lovingly at his infant form be so cold to him now? An icy fire was how Harry had grown to describe James's look reserved for Harry alone. Harry suddenly remembered his resolve to smooth things over with his Dad, but the timing couldn't have been more screwed up.

With a sigh, Harry shifted his weight onto his right foot.

"Were these bastards bothering you, Rem?" James asked.

Remus winced at what James was saying; moreover, toward whom. He shook his head, "No, James. Let's go." Remus tried, walking back towards the door. He turned around and noticed that James hadn't budged at all. He was still watching Harry with an intense look.

Sirius looked back and forth between the scorn-filled James and the meek and quiet Harry. He started to worry when James smirked and began to swagger over to Harry with a strange gleam in his eye. His eyes widened and he rushed to James's side and put a firm hand on his shoulder. "Not now, James. We need to go." He said with meaning.

Harry let his eyes gaze at Sirius. His expression held no playfulness; his jaw seemed to be clenched. There was unmistakenably disappointment shining in his dark blue eyes. Harry felt a clash of emotions; happiness- because Sirius was disappointed in James for the way he always treated him, and guilt- because if it wasn't for him, Sirius wouldn't be upset with his best friend.

James' smirk deflated and was replaced with a frown. He nodded and said quietly, "Can you guys wait outside? I need to have a word with Johnson."

Remus looked really worried by this point, he interjected, "James, I really think that we should—"

James cut him off, "I'll only be a moment, guys."

"James—" Sirius frowned, he glanced over at Harry.

"Only a minute." James interrupted.

Remus and Peter reluctantly walked outside. Sirius didn't make a move to leave. "Whatever you have to say to Harry, you can say with me in the room, James." He said a little angrily.

James turned around to face Sirius with a shocked expression. Sirius, standing at 6'1 had a good inch or two over James. His lean face held mixed emotions. Oddly, Harry realized, they looked like love and hate. Sirius was struggling between the brotherly love he felt for his best friend and the hatred of his actions.

Harry's guilt intensified to the point of suffocation.

James glanced between Sirius and Harry, ignoring Hermione's presence altogether. "Is there something you wanted to say to me, Sirius? Since when did you and Johnson become old pals?" James asked rather calmly.

Harry felt a hot blush stain his cheeks.

Sirius was unmoved. "Since when do you have to act like an arrogant asshole just because I'm sticking up for him for once?" He shot back.

James narrowed his hazel eyes, "I thought you were on my side."

Sirius's face broke into a frustrated and incredulous expression. He outstretched his arms wildly, "Do you not realize, James? There _are_ no sides." He walked over to Harry, "Harry has never insulted you, yelled at you, or even said anything negative about you even when you _aren't _in the room. And yes, Harry is the type of guy that I could easily like."

Harry's pulse quickened, but he let James and Sirius continue without interruption.

James—also—was unmoved. He turned his glare onto Harry. "Stealing my crush just wasn't enough for you, Johnson, was it? Neither was stealing my pride. You had to steal my best friend, didn't you!" Harry loved his father, and the glimpse of pain that flickered in James's face fade him feel like the filthiest scum alive.

He didn't see it coming, it happened too fast. James swung his fist right into Harry's jaw. A loud 'crack' echoed off the walls, and Harry fell to the ground. He gazed up at his father with eyes filled with hurt and betrayal.

"No wonder your parents died, Johnson. They probably couldn't stand to be in your presence, such an abomination to their name. It had to have been suicide. They'd rather rot in hell then be within ten feet of you." James spat.

Harry honestly felt like crying by now.

Hermione must have seen the tremble of his bottom lip. It took a lot to make a sixteen year old boy cry, and it definitely wasn't his bruised jaw or his bleeding mouth. She knelt to the ground and took him in her arms, holding him protectively against her. He didn't seem affected; his eyes were locked onto his father's face.

All of a sudden, Sirius charged right into James, knocking him to the cold wooden floor. He began to slam his fists right into James's face and gut. "You've gone too far this time, James! I've stood by you and watched you harass Harry, but he didn't deserve that, James!" Sirius's punches slowed as he realized whom he was hitting with all his might.

A dry sob tore from his throat as his scrambled off of James.

Harry's expression grew strained and something inside of him snapped as he stared into his father's eyes full of hate and pain. He softly pulled Hermione off of him and said, "Don't bother, Sirius. He's right."

Three jaws dropped.

Harry continued all of his emotions finally boiling to the surface, "I don't deserve happiness. My parents died because I was born! Cedric died because I was born! S-my godfather died because I was born!" he glanced at Sirius and forcefully ripped his gaze away and turned it onto Hermione, "Things could turn out okay without me, you know. If I just told—"

"Harry, no!" she shouted, her delicate face clearly frightened.

"What do you know, Hermione! WHY THE HELL CAN'T I JUST SAY IT ALL FOR EVERYONE TO HEAR! YOU DON'T HAVE TO LIVE WITH MY BURDENS, MY MEMORIES—MY REJECTION!" Harry's eyes were beginning to grow glassy throughout his rant.

He ran a hand through his hair and said in a shaky voice, "I-I have to go." He bolted for the door and ran out into the hallway. James, Sirius, and Hermione all stood in silence, shocked and scared expressions on their faces.

James found his voice, "Did he…did he just…?"

Hermione breathed, "Oh my god. Oh my god! He's…oh no." She looked wildly at Sirius and James. Her face grew pale as she ran up to James and shouted in his face, "How could you _do _this to him? How! All he wanted was your acceptance and love! He's about to do god knows what, and it's ALL YOUR FAULT!"

James didn't have a chance to respond, because Hermione was running out of the Boy's Dormitory.

James looked at Sirius, "What did she mean by 'All he wanted was your acceptance and love'? How is this my fault?"

Sirius remained silent for a moment, letting his anger subside, "I guess that Harry is still in pain and you just rubbed the wound one too many times. Wasn't it obvious that he wanted your hand in friendship? Can you recall one time where he insulted you in any way, James? Can you?"

James looked down.

"We really need to talk about this later. I need to help Hermione find Harry. You go with Remus, alright?" Sirius said softly.

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Why did rejection have to hurt this bad? Pain thudded within the walls of his chest; each heartbeat wrenching the life out of him. This was worse than that illusory knife lodged in his heart, causing a painful ache. This was sheer agony, and all that Harry wanted was to end it.

His father hated him; he had fucked up his relationship with Ron, because he was too stupid, too blind to see that loving ended up in pain.

Fate had made it that way.

To love, you had to pay a price; it may not come do until the end of your days, but the bill always arrived on your doorstep. Even for those who have been loyal to one another and live happily to a ripe old age end up in pain; for, what happens when their lover dies? How does that feel to the one left behind? How does it feel to the soul up in heaven watching their lover's every waking minute filled with sorrow and grievance?

Yes, he had Hermione, but she would move on with her life. She wouldn't stay with him forever, to watch over him and give him the proper love that he needed more than anything.

And yes, he had Sirius's and his mother's friendship, but what happens when he has to leave for the future? He would never see them again.

The only thing that had kept him going this long was the knowledge of the weight of the world on his shoulders. But what if he left a letter for his parents—telling them what their fate had been, and how to avoid it.

Maybe he might meddle with how things were supposed to turn out, and maybe it might even result in him not even being born, but Harry didn't care anymore. Ache and pain filled his waking hours, and nightmares filled his sleeping hours.

He tried to act cheerful for Ron and Hermione's sake, but he wasn't immortal; he wasn't Superman. He had weaknesses and imperfections. And to be frank, he was tired.

Exhausted with everything.

When Hermione, James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter all left the Common Room, he came out from behind a statue of Godric Gryffindor and slowly walked back up the stairs to the dormitories.

Once he reached his desk, he pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill; writing what needed to be said.

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Hermione sprinted down halls and corridors, her chest heaving. Tears of desperation started to run down her face as each minute ticked by, and still there was no sign of Harry.

She must not have been really looking where she was running, because she ran into someone and they both tumbled to the ground. Hermione yelped. It turned out that in her haste, she had run right into one Ronald Weasley.

She let out a half cry, half laugh and wrapped her arms around his neck and started blubbering, "Ron… it's Harry…he-he's been pushed…too far and now he's gonna hurt himself and I can't find him and I don't know what to do and—"

"Woah, wait a minute, Hermione," Ron said with worry shining bright in his deep voice, he pulled her face from his shoulder and held it in front of his face. Her eyes were red and puffy, her cheeks were blotchy and wet, her hair was tussled, and her chocolate brown eyes were breaking.

"What is going on?" he asked.

"We were gonna try and steal the Map cause of the full moon and Harry was late and he was kissing Sirius and James said mean things to him and—"

Ron's eyes opened wide, "Slower Hermione. He was kissing _Sirius_? Sirius _Black_? As in _our _Sirius?"

Hermione nodded.

"And James was making fun of him?"

Hermione shook her head.

"Then _what_?"

"He told him that he had taken everything away from him, and that his parents had to have committed suicide because he was such an abomination of their flesh, or something. And then he punched him. Ron, I think Harry's going to do something really stupid!"

"You mean…?"

She nodded, fresh tears forming in her eyes, "And he ran away and I can't find him and—"

Ron kissed her on the lips. She stopped her panic and let him calm her down in the sweetest way. She broke away, stunned, and spoke, "I'm flattered, Ron, but you have the worst timing. You need to help me find him before we lose our friend and our world as we know it."

He cupped her cheeks and softly said, "We will."

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He turned the faucet, and warm water began filling the tub. Harry slowly stripped his clothing and waited for the bath to fill. He looked into the mirror over the sink. His eyes were bloodshot with dark circles under them, his face looked unusually gaunt, his hair windblown. His jaw had swollen and turned a nasty purple color.

It didn't hurt nearly as bad as his heart.

A loud scream of frustration tore from his lips as he rammed his fist into the mirror. Shattering the glass, and his knuckles in the process. He looked at his shredded hand with shallow breaths escaping his split lips.

Stepping into the filled tub, he mildly wondered when someone would find him. Undoubtedly when someone needed to take a piss. He chuckled without any humor filling his voice.

He decided that he wanted to at least be clean when they found him. He slowly lathered the shampoo into his raven tresses with his functioning hand.

His heart thudded and thumped with his never ending misery. He smiled when he pictured his parents' faces, Sirius's face. He'd get to be with them again. Or, he'd get to be with the versions of them who actually loved him, he should say.

With a steady hand and a bitter smile, Harry grasped the sharp razor and lowered it down to his skin.

His face contorted with pain.

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_T.B.C._

_M.R._


	10. Dreams, or Visions?

_His heart thudded and thumped with his never ending misery. He smiled when he pictured his parents' faces, Sirius's face. He'd get to be with them again. Or, he'd get to be with the versions of them who actually loved him, he should say. _

_With a steady hand and a bitter smile, Harry grasped the sharp razor and lowered it down to his skin._

_His face contorted with pain._

Chapter 10

_Dedicated to:_C.F.Evangel—My 100th Reviewer!

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A throbbing sting shot through his forehead, and he dropped the razor into the bathtub with a small splash. It slightly grazed his arm as it fell from his grasp. Oh god, it felt like someone was trying to rip his skin off beginning at his scar.

He hissed in pain as he clutched his scar with both hands. White hot fire engulfed his nerve endings; he let out a piercing scream of anguish. The bathroom around him began to slowly melt into darkness.

Harry was in the Forbidden Forest. The sky was pitch black; the stars and moon hidden by ominous clouds overhead. He felt suffocated in the heaviness he felt all around him. The limbs of the countless trees swayed with a light breeze; a dance of darkness.

He began to walk, be anywhere but here. Reaching into his back pocket, he fumbled for his wand and mumbled a soft _Lumos_. The faint light created shadows; shadows following his every footstep.

Harry began to walk faster, he was growing frightened.

How did he end up here?

A twig snapped to his right. He jumped and swung his body to face the sound; his wand pointing in the general direction. Light washed over trunks, bushes, and weeds, but there was nothing there at all.

Harry began to run; branches and thorns greedily clung to him; leaving scrapes and bruises, but all that he could feel was his fear. His heart was pounding in his ears, a quick thumpity thump.

Thumpity thump.

He ran, and ran, and ran, and in a split second; he was falling. He tumbled down a steep hillside, rolling through thorn bushes and over rocks and roots. When he finally reached the bottom he landed on his foot and a soft crack resounded to his ears. A dull ache emitted from his ankle, and by the awkward position in which his foot now lay, he knew he had at least sprained it.

The faint breeze grew more forceful and his hair whipped around in all directions. Over to his left, a small orb of light came into focus—then another to it's right. Orbs continued to appear until he was completely surrounded by them.

Almost simultaneously, each orb flickered and then grew brighter; the light practically blinding, and multiplied themselves. Harry watched in morbid fascination, as the balls of light continued to flicker, and with a burst of light reproduced.

It was strangely stunning.

Harry clumsily stood, despite the demanding ache in his right foot. He slowly walked towards the orbs, entranced.

He held out his hand and one slowly floated toward him. When it rested in his palm flashes of his mother's laughter, her bright smile, her red hair, her cry of terror as she was struck by Avada Kedavra flashed before his eyes.

He stumbled backwards as he let go of the iridescent glowing sphere. Another seemed to come flying toward him. This time, his father's quirky smile, his hearty chuckle, his warm eyes, and his panic as he told Lily to take Harry and run flashed before him.

Harry began to breathe heavily as he quickly began to back away. The orbs seemed intent on touching him now, flashes of Hermione's tears, Ron's cry of agony, Sirius's fall into the veil, Hagrid's lifeless body, Remus's expression of pain as he was brutally beaten…

Now numerous faces of classmates, and people that Harry had never seen before in his life sped before him. Screams, cries, fire, smoke, and blackness encircled his mind. Harry forcefully broke away from the lights, as they clung to him without mercy.

These were not part of a light show.

These were the souls of everyone who will die because of Harry's incompetence—selfishness, this he knew. Hot tears fell down his grime streaked and scraped face.

Metallic laughter filled his every thought as he curled up into a ball and began rocking back and forth. "Stop! It's not my fault, it's not! It's _his_! Please, no!" he shouted in a broken voice.

The laughter and cries filled his hears; he clutched his hands over them and yelled, "Make it stop! Please make it, STOP!"

"Harry!"

"Mum, Dad! Sirius! Hermione…Ron…" he yelled.

"Harry! Harry, stop it!" A voice shouted at him as rough hands shook his bare shoulders. Harry opened his distraught eyes too see an ashen looking Sirius Black. Harry let out a dry sob and buried his head into Sirius's chest.

Sirius's hands let go of his shoulders and wrapped around him in a tight hug. "It's all right, Harry. It'll all be fine." He soothed in a shaky voice.

Harry raised his head and lifted his hands to brush over Sirius's face, to make sure that he was real, that he was alive. Relief shone on his face, he tried to smile but his aching jaw didn't permit him to do anything more than grimace.

Sirius looked at Harry's cut up hand with worry. "Harry…" he had no words. He looked at the place where the razor had scraped his skin; blood was slowly seeping from the wound. "Oh, god, Harry…if I hadn't…if you had…" His expression was more than upset.

Harry couldn't look into Sirius's eyes any longer.

But Sirius was having none of that, he pulled Harry's gaze back onto him. "Promise me that you will never ever do that again. Please promise me."

Harry remained silent.

"Promise me, dammit!" Sirius yelled, "You have too much to live for!"

"Like what?" Harry asked softly, he didn't feel the anger and bitterness that had driven him to his attempt. He was still haunted by the thousands and thousands of souls that had died because of him.

Somehow he knew that it wasn't just a dream.

"Do you even have to ask?" Sirius frowned, "Your friends love you, Harry, do you realize what this would have done to them—to me?"

Harry's eyes softened. He winced in pain as he finally felt how bad his hand had been mangled by the mirror. Shards were scattered on the floor, casting lights on the bathroom walls.

Sirius sighed. "C'mon, we need to get you to the infirmary." He finally seemed to notice that Harry wasn't clothed—at all. He looked away and handed him a white towel.

Harry shakily stood and swathed the towel around his hips. He held onto Sirius for support as he slowly climbed out of the tub. He felt like he could just collapse into a deep sleep and never get up again.

Just then, Hermione ran into the bathroom, eyes wild, holding a piece of parchment in her hands. She stopped short when she saw that Sirius had already found Harry. She breathed a sigh of relief and ran up to Harry; wrapping her arms around him.

Harry almost thought that she'd never let go.

He could feel the hot tears against his bare chest, and the guilt came back into his fuzzy mind. He awkwardly patted her back, and she finally loosened her grip. After a moment, her face grew angry and she yelled with a thick voice, "Don't you EVER do that to me AGAIN Harry James P-Johnson!" she finished lamely, a look of horror on her face.

She glanced at Sirius out of the corner of her eye; he didn't seem to be concerned by Harry's middle name. "Hermione, now is really not the time. He's really hurt."

Harry's bad arm rested on Sirius's shoulder, Sirius's arm around his waist. Later she would curse at herself countless times for her terrible timing, but she could have sworn that she blushed.

"Yes, of course." She said, before she supported Harry's other side.

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The full moon shone overhead. It was his life—and it was his ultimate demise. The moon was part of who he was now, and Remus knew that he had to accept it. But it was just so hard; living in a prejudice world where if you were different—you had no hope of making it in civilization.

He had been bitten when he was nine years old, the wolf had gone on a rampage and slaughtered his father and infected himself. His mother had been away at his grandparents' house at the time, thank Merlin.

At first, he had been bitter. Why did _he_ have to have his entire life ruined? Why was _he _the one who had to live a life full of pain, scorn, and sorrow? What had _he_ ever done to deserve this kind of destiny?

And as the years passed, the bitterness molded into acceptance. _He _had been bitten because he was meant to be a werewolf. His grandma always said that things happen for a reason, but Remus didn't know what that reason was just yet.

Finding out that Harry Johnson was actually Harry Potter, son of his best friend James, had to have been a sign. But looking back at how terrible James had been to his own son turned Remus's stomach.

He just couldn't imagine how Harry must be feeling right now.

Remus found himself wondering what role he played in Harry's life in the future. He seemed very affectionate towards him, so they must be really close. He wondered what kind of lives that he, Sirius, James, and Peter lead in the future.

Were they all happy?

Moreover, was he happy? Did he have a family? A career? A home?

This was his last thought before he felt the primitive urge take over his body. He let out a howl at the feeling of his bones breaking themselves, and reforming. Fur sprouted from his body.

His eyes glowed amber.

A stag and a rat stood by his side.

He was more than disappointed that Padfoot was missing.

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Sirius couldn't explain how he felt. When he thought that Harry was going to kill himself…Sirius actually believed that he would've cried over this boy that he barely knew.

He admitted to himself that he had been more that just a little attracted to the dark haired teen. He was pretty good in classes, on the Pitch, and was someone he liked talking to. Yes, Harry was a little gullible and naïve, but that made it more fun to be around him.

Staring at Harry's sleeping form, he wondered how he felt about himself. Did Harry like him the way Sirius liked him? Yeah, they kissed, but that had been initiated by himself. Maybe Harry had just gotten into the heat of the moment.

Hormones, maybe?

But then why was he shouting his name along with his parents' and best friends' in the bathroom?

Sirius shook that thought out of his head as he leaned forward in his chair alongside Harry's bed. Madam Pomfrey had given him Potions to heal his bones, ointments to close his wounds, and a Sleeping Draught to make him sleep.

But she needn't have bothered, because in Sirius's opinion, he had started to drift off as soon as his head hit the pillow.

His pale face looked so peaceful. If his chest hadn't been slowly rising and falling, Sirius might have gotten worried. His lips were slightly parted, and Sirius found himself staring.

Would he ever get to kiss those lips again?

With a tentative hand, he brushed his finger over Harry's bottom lip, and after a moment, he snatched his hand back with a shocked expression. Harry had just attempted suicide! He shouldn't be trying to take advantage of his vulnerability right now.

Sirius sighed as he lifted his legs onto the chair and rested his chin on his knees, his eyes never leaving Harry once.

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Harry was back in his room he shared with Ron at Grimmauld Place. Ron had forgotten his Potions supplies at Diagon Alley for their Fifth Year, and Mrs. Weasley had taken him back to the small community to pick them up.

Dinner was finished, and everyone was either sleeping or gone. Harry had been looking in his photo album, but he didn't really feel like being depressed tonight, so he closed the book and set it aside.

He had been cleared from all charges and was no longer expelled! He was going back to Hogwarts! But Harry kept thinking of Sirius's dismal expression. He kept feeling like maybe he should've gotten expelled…so he could stay with Sirius.

He didn't like it when Sirius was upset, especially because of him.

Harry heard someone quietly open his door. Looking up, Harry saw that it was sixteen year old Sirius. Harry's expression showed concern as Sirius trudged over toward him and dropped onto his back on Harry's bed.

"Hey, Harry," Sirius said with a fake smile.

Harry watched his godfather with interest, "Couldn't sleep?"

"Not really, I think Buckbeak might need a bath one of these days—the stench is dreadful."

Harry chuckled, and soon heard Sirius joining him. But he still knew that something was wrong with Sirius. "Sirius, is there something wrong?" he asked with worried emerald eyes.

There was a long silence before Sirius finally answered.

He sat up and looked straight into Harry's eyes. He seemed to be pondering his words. "Harry, I-I have to tell you something."

"What is it, Sirius?" Harry asked inquisitively.

Sirius ran a hand through his midnight black hair. Harry mildly noted that he was letting it grow out. He looked down and when he lifted his gaze, all of his awkwardness was gone, and what was replaced in those sapphire eyes was lust. "Why don't you let me show you?" he asked with a mischievous smile.

Harry gasped as Sirius pinned him down to the bed. His face was only mere inches away from his own. He could feel his hot breath on his neck. Sirius leaned in next to his ear and breathed, "I want you, Harry. I want your love, and I want your body."

Harry shivered at the sheer intensity of his words.

"But the question is," Sirius continued, "Do you want me?" His face hovered mere centimeters from his face now. Sirius stroked his thumb over Harry's flushed cheek. Harry stared into Sirius's eyes, and saw the want.

But what made him respond how he did was the need that shone in those dark blue depths.

He leaned up and caught Sirius's mouth in a hot and passionate kiss. A smile graced Sirius's features as he slowly pushed Harry back down and showed Harry just how he felt through his mouth.

Tender, yet undeniable passion and fervor.

He ran his hands down Harry's chest and lifted his shirt over his head. He ran his hands over every contour of his bare chest. He tore his mouth away from Harry's and moved it down to the hollow of his neck, sucking, biting, moving down, down, down.

Harry's body was on fire, he had never experienced anything like this before in his life. The only word to describe what he wanted was more. He let out a loud moan of need.

Sirius began to suck on a pert nipple, grounding his hips into Harry's hardness.

Electricity shot through Harry as his eyes shot open, his breathing coming in short and quick pants. After he fully regained consciousness, he realized that he was in the infirmary. And, oh God.

Sirius was staring at him, his face flushed. Harry's eyes opened wide as he followed his gaze down to his erection.

Oh fuck.

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but something caught his eye, and stole away all of his useless words.

Sirius undeniably had a hard on too.

Oh _fuck_.

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_T.B.C._

_M.R._


	11. Blood Clot

_Sirius was staring at him, his face flushed. Harry's eyes opened wide as he followed his gaze down to his erection._

_Oh fuck._

_Harry opened his mouth to say something, but something caught his eye, and stole away all of his useless words._

_Sirius undeniably had a hard on too._

_Oh **fuck**._

Chapter 11

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Harry quickly walked down corridor after corridor. His pace ascended from a brisk walk to a trotting jog. He didn't know what he was trying to get away from, but what he did know was that he needed to be far away from that Infirmary.

Far,_ far_ away.

When he had awoken this morning, memories from the night before had immediately washed over his thoughts. Feelings of mortification, shame, self-disgust, fear, and confusion filled his every fiber.

He had jumped out of bed and quickly threw his robes back onto his body. Madam Pomfrey seemed a little startled by his desperation to leave, but nonetheless shouted after him, "You are free to go, Mr. Potter!"

Oh Merlin, what had he done?

Had he really almost committed _suicide_? Harry had always thought himself above desperate things like that, but he had proved himself wrong, he observed. How had he let his father get to him like that?

If his Dad thought that he was lower than scum, why should he care? He was sewn from _his _seed, so it was his own goddamn fault for bringing him to life! And then…and then…

The dream…

What the hell was _that_ about? Surely he wouldn't have a flash of a future without him in it right before he was about to slit his wrists? Yeah, he was grateful it happened, because he was still breathing, but honestly! He accounted it from his conscience along with being Harry Potter.

That usually was able to explain it all.

What the…!

Hermione was the one who had found his 'good-bye' letter, thankfully. If anyone else had… Harry's thoughts began to drift back to the area of 'What the hell was I thinking!' Harry swore right then and there, that he wouldn't let anyone affect him like that ever again in his life.

Why let yourself love, when you only find disappointment? He had proved himself right yet again with Ron, and then his Dad…

And Sirius.

But Sirius was alive right now, wasn't he?

And apparently, he had just had a fucking _wet_ dream about him last night. Right in front of the guy! Had he said something aloud? Harry forcefully squinted his eyes and vigorously shook his head; cursing at himself.

He _must_ have said something out loud, because Harry clearly remembered his godfather to be quite turned on even if everything else was a blur. Harry bit his bottom lip almost to the point of bleeding as he rounded a corridor and accidentally bumped into a small blonde haired Second Year boy; knocking him into the stone wall.

Harry barely noticed, as, he was lost in berating himself.

But the worst part about the whole situation with Sirius was that he didn't find himself repulsed by his dream…or by Sirius's reaction.

Or by the idea of making that dream an actual reality.

What had he done?

Oh Merlin, what had he done.

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The sky was a dark canvas painted with vague splashes of pink, orange, and yellow. It was just before dawn. A soft breeze whispered throughout the vast horizon, blowing a few fallen leaves along the freshly dewed grass.

Everyone and everything was, for the most part, still in peaceful slumber. Birds had not yet been awoken by the blazing sun, and therefore their singing could not yet be heard. Grasshoppers and crickets had long ago become winded and had given up their incessant chatter.

Dawn comes and goes with each passing day, but this one was quite different.

Oh, yes.

For, a small scraggly rat with a missing toe had just slipped its way through the Hogwarts gates; running toward the towering castle quite determinedly.

A soft chirp rang out throughout the blanket of silence; soon to be joined by several more.

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Harry finally found himself at the Gryffindor Common Room. It was unbelievably early at the moment, so he doubted that anyone in their right mind would be up at this time, which doesn't say a whole lot for himself.

His thoughts swirled through his mind as he paced across the room back and forth. After a few minutes, he stopped and rubbed his eyes wearily. He needed to think things through clearly before he did anything else that went under the category of 'Stupid' or 'Really Stupid' once more.

Alright, he needed to talk to Ron and set things straight. Either he was with him or without him. Harry wasn't going to let his emotions get at him like that anymore.

He was on okay terms with Hermione, he thought. He probably just needed to reassure her a million and one times that he wasn't going to go suicidal on her anytime soon though he doubted she would ever let him out of her sight now.

Thoughts of his previous actions overcame him once more, and he felt like banging his head against the castle walls until he erased everything that had been said and done.

Then there was Sirius, Remus, Lily—did she even know about what had happened?

Harry avoided thinking about his Dad.

Because he was not paying attention to his surroundings, his sneaker caught on the small incline of the beginning of a large rug placed on the floor. Falling to his knees, he hadn't had sufficient time to react. The fall startled him yet again into his waking reality.

He sat on his heels.

There were just too many factors that needed taken care of and he didn't know the slightest place to begin. His hands rose to cover his eyes.

It seemed as though he sat there for hours in that very spot on the Common Room floor before he felt a warm hand grip at his own to pull it away from his weary face. All energy had left his body, so instead of looking up to see who it was, he gazed at the long freckled hand still holding his own.

Harry felt his heart beat a little faster. "Ron?"

Within moments, he saw the red head sitting before him on the floor upon which he had yet to let go of his hand. For several minutes they simply sat there staring at each other. If the emotions coursing through both teenage boys' veins hadn't been so grave; the sight would have been considered comically strange.

Finally with a clear of his throat, Ron spoke, "Harry…I don't even know where to begin…" Ron looked down at the intricate pattern of the large rug that they were seated upon as he retracted his hand.

Harry made no attempt to help him along.

"I..I guess what I've been meaning to say is that I'm sorry for how I've been acting lately. But you're wrong about how I feel about you." Ron hesitated to exhale the breath he had been holding, "Yes, I've been upset about Hermione recently, but that doesn't mean that I care about you any less than her—which when I think about it is completely selfish on my part…"

Harry gave him a half smile.

"And I feel like such a terrible friend for getting pissed at you, well, just because you called my immaturity, and then to top it of I waited until I almost lost you to tell you that you have to be the most important person to me. Yes, I think about you in that way, but even more so—we've been best mates for years. You've had my back and I've had yours. There's something between us that even Hermione can't begin to ever understand."

"But…" Harry smiled sadly.

"But yet when I look at Hermione…something happens to me that I can't explain. Something painful yet delightful clicks within me…and it tears me up that I could never have both of you without destroying us all in the end. Then there is the whole issue with my damn family never accepting this side of me that feels this way toward you, and even most recently…how you have been feeling about Sirius."

This time, Harry was the one to look down. "Hermione told you about that?"

Ron nodded with an odd expression, "Harry…what exactly is going on with Sirius? I mean…he's…and you are…well..." His words drifted away to silence. Both boys sat in silence once more until Harry finally mustered his answer.

"I don't know, Ron, I wish I did. I don't know about anything anymore."

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I would like to say that from this day forward, things were sugar coated and as keen as a plump and juicy peach. I would like to say those words and even believe them within my own soul…but there is simply a fine line between reality and delusion.

The reality of being the legendary Harry Potter, and the delusion of ever being able to lead a normal life—let alone one filled with boundless happiness whilst still being the aforementioned legendary Harry Potter.

I believe, now, that this was the day that a part of me walked out of the door forever.

Never to be seen or heard from again.

Life is a bitch, and if you can't beat it—join it; if you can't join it—screw it. I suddenly forgot about the childish trifles of bewitched candy or riding throughout the clouds upon glossy charmed broomsticks.

The Boy-Who-Lived shouldn't be stuck with his head in the clouds with any fancy of everything suddenly being alright by the simple wave of a wand or a wish upon a sparkling star. Reality simply didn't work that way in the slightest.

I no longer cared about my dream world filled with caring and love. I believe I became stronger on this day as I built a resistant shield around my weaknesses and flaws; on the day that I pulled out that cursed illusory knife—that had been lodged within my chest's cavity for the longest time—with my own bare hands...

Giving the wound a chance to clot.

To finally stop bleeding.

To dry.

Never again would I allow the scab to be torn away; I promised myself even if I hadn't had the realization of such a pledge. Giving _anyone _the ability to render you defenseless and wounded in such a way was the ultimate vulnerability.

So as the minutes turned into hours, and the hours turned into days, and days turned into weeks; my life carried on, and my shield continued to grow thicker and even more so imperishable.

Yes, things were awkward between Sirius and me for a short while. I couldn't bring myself to bring up what had occurred on that night, and neither could he. It got to the point where there was a mutual unspoken agreement to put it behind us. Speaking about it would only make things messy.

I didn't have time for such messes.

I turned down the position of Seeker that eventually James Potter had offered me upon the Gryffindor House Quidditch team. Such distractions were something that I didn't need nor want.

My main goal was to focus on the overall betterment of my physical and intellectual self. As I had promised Hermione not too long ago, I concentrated on my studies. She and I would spend a lot of our free time in the library doing homework, studying, and even working ahead. In this way, I realized a newfound appreciation for her goals and principles.

She'd known from the beginning what kind of merciless world we would one day be thrown into, sink or swim, and yet it had taken me this long to catch on.

As for Ron and I, we were a bit sore for a few weeks to follow our heart to heart discussion. Things began to resemble a shred of normalcy once I proposed that he join me in my daily workouts. I suppose you could say that we had our 'male bonding' time as we did our laps around the Quidditch Pitch, and as we made ourselves stronger on the outside and I as well as on the inside within the school's gymnasium.

I kept Ron and Hermione close, for despite everything, they were my true family. They were my siblings born to sustain me until this realization; ups and downs—in their heart and mine—they have had my back.

Indeed, I kept them close, but no closer than an arm's length away from my heart.

I was slightly torn in the beginning of my transformation as to how to stomach my parents. James had come to me not too long after my attempt on my life with a sincere apology for his words and actions. I acknowledged his regrets, and walked away without looking back.

Lily sensed the distance that I was slowly beginning to place between us. I remember it clear as crystal…one night she stared at me for several moments—maybe even minutes—with the oddest expression upon her face.

I suspect what I saw was hurt.

The next morning at breakfast she sat at the other end of the table with her old girlfriends.

We haven't spoken since.

The only liability that I had was Remus and his knowledge of who I was. Somehow, I know that he will never speak of what Hermione and I had revealed to him on that night of the full moon.

The series of events that had occurred succeeded in squelching my reservations upon finishing what had been started on that fateful night once upon a time. I was going to find Voldemort…

He was going to regret the day that he ever set foot into my life.

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Yet again, Sirius found himself sitting in the dismal and inhumanly boring grasp of the Potions dungeon. Miss Thoarne had an especially sharp rod up her ass today as she walked down the length of the tables of students attempting to brew some type of healing potion for fourth degree warts…

Sirius didn't know or _care_ what the difference was between a regular wart and a fourth degree wart let alone how to brew a potion to heal them. This was simply ridiculous and he was itching inside to run out of the dungeons and into the falling blanket of snow outdoors.

To feel the icy kisses of winter land upon his face…

Christmas holiday was nearing, and he would be returning with James to the Potter residence for the duration of the break. At times, he actually felt like a part of their family—a well respected Potter—rather than a shifty _Black_.

When he finished stirring his potion fifty-one times clockwise, sixty-seven times counter clockwise, and forty-three times North to South; Sirius looked over at James who was cutting up their ruby apricot skins into rather ruggedly edged squares. The boy's head seemed to fall every once in a while until he caught himself drifting off upon which his head would jerk back into place.

A small smile formed on Sirius's face as he returned his attention to their now lavender potions brew. The color was supposed to be a more rich purple, but glancing at the puce green and neon orange potions surrounding the room, he didn't really give it much thought.

Although, there was one potion that gave off rolling waves of dark violet vapor; Harry Johnson and Hermione Granger's no doubt. Sirius didn't give much thought to that, either, for those two were the know-it-alls of the 6th year Gryffindors. Not to say that they were unlikable—just that they were perfectionists.

It seemed as though all the drama concerning Harry and James had been put to rest ages ago. The raging waters had calmed to a still between them; in fact they barely spoke ever.

In a way, this disappointed Sirius.

He thought that he had seen something within Harry…

Some type of innocent spark that was waiting to ignite into pure flame.

Lately the boy kept to himself and was only seen associating with Hermione and Ron Westley. Even Lily Evans had removed herself from their little group. Something had changed that night which was vague within his memory yet still inscribed there for eternity.

Something shifted.

Sirius was still brought back to the evening he sat by Harry's bedside in the Infirmary. The sounds and fragments that escaped his panting lips…Merlin it still made him squirm to this day.

And when he had awoken—goodness those intense eyes. They hadn't been his usual piercing forest green; they were glowing as bright as the Avada Kedavra curse itself, as if he were some ethereal being of another world.

Every time that he thought about it a small shiver ran down his spine.

Sirius felt his head shifting over into the direction of those very eyes, only to find them staring back at him in return. He felt as if they could look into the depths of his soul. This connection seemed to last for ages, and something within Sirius began to stir. He wanted the man behind those eyes.

There was no denying it to himself.

But he was frightened of what he would be getting himself into—although, he didn't think he cared all that much. Sirius didn't find himself caring about much lately whether it be fourth degree warts, midterm exams, or wanting something as reckless and enigmatic as Harry Johnson.

"Sirius! Earth to Sirius!" a voice bellowed into the shell of his ear.

He jumped as he broke eye contact only to see all of the students rushing to escape the classroom, along with one very expectant James Potter. "Come on, Sirius, class is finally over. I was thinking we could get a few laps in before practice officially starts for Thursday's game."

Sirius gasped, "You were _thinking_?"

James gave him a look, "Yes I was _thinking_, and Miss Thoarne is starting to give us her evil glare so let's—"

Sirius placed a hand over James's mouth smothering his words. "James, this is a once in a lifetime event, we cannot simply let it pass us by," his eyes grew wide, "I can't believe it, James Potter was _thinking_…"

A smile began to creep upon James's features although the roll of his eyes was more prominent, "And to _think _we have yet to witness Sirius Black follow suit. Dumbass, if we don't leave soon she'll eat us alive or something."

"I know that I'm so delectable, James, but honestly I believe our school's faculty to be above such trivial pursuits as _cannibalism_…"

"I would have to agree, James," a polished voice inserted, "Cannibalism is only practiced down in the southern regions as of late, no worries."

Both boys turned their heads to see Harry Johnson leaning against the desk next to theirs. He had a certain glint in his eye that sent those familiar shivers down Sirius's spine. "If you wouldn't mind, could I have a word with Sirius?"

James cleared his throat and nodded his head, "I guess I'll see you at practice, then, Sirius," and he began to walk towards the towering doors that led into the dimly lit hallways.

Sirius felt his heart beat more prominently within his chest.

"Let's take this somewhere else. Perhaps, outside?" Harry suggested in a voice practically as soft as a whisper and almost as cold as the snow that Sirius imagined falling outdoors.

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_With just a look they shook  
And heavens bowed before him.  
Simply a look can break your heart.  
The stars that pierce the sky;  
He left them all behind.  
We're left to wonder why  
He left us all behind._

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_T.B.C._

**_Finally, I've updated in almost a year. I believe that this story took a course on its own and is now going in a direction rather unplanned. This shall be fun (smiles impishly) Stay tuned to my profile for updates on the release of Chapter 12. It will be an interesting installment to say the least…although I can't promise you a specific date I'll have it ready. I'm in the middle of moving, along with the prospect of starting my summer Honors English reading project, and a job, but I promise the wait will not be as terrible as the last. Please read and review, for I have noticed that it tends to speed the updating process ;)_**

_M.R._


	12. Give and Take

_Sirius felt his heart beat more prominently within his chest._

"_Let's take this somewhere else. Perhaps, outside?" Harry suggested in a voice practically as soft as a whisper and almost as cold as the snow that Sirius imagined falling outdoors._

Chapter 12

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The two teens were the only ones visible in what seemed an endless horizon of winter in all of its glory. Their tall, dark silhouettes comfortably walking amidst the constant snowfall could be described as a beautiful contrast. The heat emanating between the boys should have been enough to melt all of the grounds of Hogwarts, yet what should be often never comes to pass. Therefore, when the first words to break the silence were spoken, it left much to be desired.

"Don't you think the pumpkin juice at lunch tasted a bit off? I swear the house elves are plotting a full scale poison rebellion." Sirius rambled with a small laugh in order to stave off the nervousness that threatened his composure. He was not one to really let another affect his cool in such a way…it had never really posed as an issue.

He is Sirius Black. Society is wary of his family status and most of his peers admire him from a safe distance. Not to wave his own wand, but he can make most girls and a good number of blokes swoon without even trying. It isn't a crime to be aware of the effect that he has on others—Sirius often resents the fact that no one takes the time to look past the first impression and see him for what he really is.

Sirius Black is more than old money, stunning looks, and mischievous charm.

Most people don't get past these factors and therefore Sirius doesn't bother to let them see anything else. But…with Harry…it's different.

Harry can see past his front and through his thoughts and down into the deepest core of his soul. His jaded emerald eyes seemed to hold every shred of knowledge known to man, every shred of knowledge that man _will_ ever know, every shred of Sirius's being.

Sirius loves those eyes.

It is because of Sirius's mild obsession with Harry's green orbs that he notices.

The innocent flame that burned behind the threatening darkness was completely gone. Memories of the softness of Harry's gaze as they tentatively kissed for the first time…the passion that emblazoned his irises in the Infirmary…everything was gone.

"Indeed?" Harry let the corner of his lips turn upwards, "I would actually put my money on Severus. I feel that he would go to great lengths to get back at you and your crowd," Harry paused with a far away look before continuing, "despite the hundreds of other retching students."

Sirius felt another nervous laugh escape his lips, "I'll have to inform James and Remus of your theory. Although, I hardly think that you invited me out into this blizzard to indulge my erratic theories of conspiracy."

"Not quite," Harry smirked, "but not many subjects are as stimulating."

"I can think of a few," Sirius smirked, in turn.

"Intellectually stimulating," Harry corrected with a laugh.

"Even so, what is it that you wanted to talk about, Harry?" Sirius prompted.

"I didn't really have anything specific in mind; I just think that there are unresolved matters between us." Harry let his previous smirk tug at his lips.

Sirius found himself repeating Harry's previous inquiry, "Indeed?"

Harry slowed his pace to a stop when they reached one of the stone walls of the colossal castle which sheltered them from the increasing downfall of snow. Harry shifted towards Sirius—it was almost unnoticeable, but Sirius was very aware—which made him slowly close the distance between his back and the castle wall. Harry stepped forward; he was mere inches away from Sirius's face.

Time stood still as Sirius watched the smugness slide off of Harry's face into an expression of stone. He didn't know which he preferred, for both produced a sick feeling in his gut. Harry wasn't supposed to be this way.

Something was wrong.

Harry reached out to tuck a wind blown strand of hair behind Sirius's ear. Almost simultaneously he leaned forward and breathed shivers down Sirius's spine from the sizzling caress of words against the sensitive lobe, "I know how you feel about me, Sirius," Harry whispered as he let his palm run the length of the shell and down the side of his neck.

Sirius arched away and into that searing hand within a single breath. Harry moved his gentle caress to Sirius's jaw and pulled their gazes into an irreproachable lock. "I see it in your eyes…" Harry murmured as he brought his other hand to roam down the length of Sirius's chest only to dip it under his layers and travel over bare skin back up to rest over his heart.

"I feel it in your racing pulse," Harry continued as he lowered his hands to run down the smooth muscles of Sirius's back. He suddenly gripped his godfather's hips, pulling them forward as he hitched his own thigh to rest against the awakening hardness in between.

At this, the small tug at Harry's lips formed once more. "Unresolved matters between us, wouldn't you say?"

Sirius felt himself let out a hiss at the contact. He couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted—something had changed, but Harry was pressing harder against him and_ Merlin_ he was getting turned on by this. Why had Harry ignored him for so many months, only to come on to him like this at random?

Moreover, why did Sirius care? There was a gorgeous boy pinning him to a wall and sliding his hand into Sirius's now unzipped trousers. He bucked his hips into the strong palm as he leaned his head back against the stone wall. This boy that he had so recently met, so recently looked after, so recently let go of was now holding onto him for dear life as they rocked together and as Sirius completely gave into the pleasure.

When Sirius came down from his high, he stared into the face that so resembled his best friend it made the shivers racking his body intensify, not from the cold, but from the feeling that he had just betrayed him. He felt something wrong in the way Harry's icy gaze of fire and knowledge roamed over his face in return.

What was the matter with him? How could he feel that something so right could be so wrong? Why did he feel that he had just betrayed the trust of not only the gorgeous boy slowly walking away from him, but that he had betrayed himself?

Why could he only bring himself to stare at the fading silhouette of the only source of warmth out here in this endless falling snow?

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Hermione was a little miffed at the fact that Harry had just brushed her off after Potions, telling her to go do whatever she had to do because he was currently busy. Honestly, could he be any more of an arse about it? She knew that they had been spending most of their time together as a result of Harry's coping with recent events, but if he was feeling stifled by her presence, did he have to be so rude?

Initially she was excited about Harry's newfound interest to live up to his potential. Hadn't she nagged him long enough? When Harry set his mind to it, he was able to match—if not top her marks in class. Hermione's "I told you so" was lost on the tip of her tongue and smothered in pride for how far he was coming along.

The fact that she had been losing her brother and gaining a perfected acquaintance had gone unnoticed until as of late. She hadn't realized that the Harry Potter she had entered this crazy time frame with was not the person that she sat next to in classes or exchanged smiles with anymore.

How long had it been since she was graced with his genuine lop-sided grin and not a forced baring of teeth for her sake? Hermione knew that Harry still cared for her and Ron, but not in the way that they cared for him. Hermione held true to a now long ago memory of an oath given in Dumbledore's office.

She would die for Harry.

She felt as if he had already died for not only her sake, but for the sake of many others. His mechanical countenance was unnatural and cut her to the bone, yet she felt helpless to find out how to reverse the damage.

With a frustrated sigh, Hermione shook off her downward spiraling train of thought and took the corridor that would undoubtedly lead her to the Library.

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Albus Dumbledore was considered to be a very wise man, and he fully appreciated the praise. Many a wizard and witch had taken it upon their wandering thoughts to question any involvement of divinity in relation to his knowledge.

Albus Dumbledore was many things, but the Sight he sadly did not possess. He might take the time to work on that in the future for amusements sake of fulfilling such wandering thoughts, but for the time being, he owed his inexplicable knowledge to sharp wit and his friends in high and low places.

He had also had an inclination to watch over new students. Call it his maternal streak.

It is because of all of this that Albus Dumbledore had come to the realization that there was something amiss between his three newest transfer students along with a select few of their House peers.

The fact that his three newest transfer students were illegal aliens that had time traveled from twenty years into the future was but a minor detail.

The letter from himself had taken care of the general inquiries.

Apparently, Albus Dumbledore had confidants in more places than one could even imagine.

Anyway, his three newest transfer students did not seem to be basking in the presence of their select few House peers, nor did they seem to be interacting at all at this point. Albus Dumbledore had made it very clear to Albus Dumbledore that he was to make sure this preparation period went according to plan.

His older self had most definitely overlooked this possibility, and so his younger self had devised a sub-plan of The Plan.

A slightly _meddlesome _plan.

Albus Dumbledore snickered as he popped a lemon drop into his mouth.

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'I. Hate. Bloody. Runes!' James screamed inside his head as he banged the aforementioned head against his Arithmancy book that rested on the table in which he sat. With a groan he let his head roll off of the cursed book and onto the cool surface of the wood. He stayed like that in defeat until a small cough seeking his attention gave him reason to lift his head.

It was Johnson's girl side kick. Interesting.

James slowly sat up to give her an appraising smile. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Hermione warily returned the smile and replied, "I came here to get an early start on my Arithmancy mid-term project, but it seems as if you had the same idea. Anyone sitting here?" she glanced at the empty seat beside him and the slightly intimidating stack of Arithmancy reference books.

James followed her gaze and gave a small laugh, "Not at all. In fact I'd love to put this off for a few moments, to be honest," he gestured towards the empty seat in an unspoken invitation.

"I didn't think that you had trouble with Arithmancy, in fact, I was under the impression that you were some kind of rune genius," Hermione commented as she sat down next to him, leafing through the book he had previously abused with his forehead.

"I wasn't aware that you thought so highly of me, Hermione, but thank you," James replied, his hazel eyes nearing amusement.

"As long as we're being honest, James, I wasn't aware that you were capable of being amiable," Hermione smiled.

"Fair enough. I know it probably doesn't matter at this point, but for what it's worth I am embarrassed of how I acted towards your friend. I guess I can be a little unreasonable when it comes to my friends and…Lily…" James said softly as he gazed down at a new book that he held within his grasp.

Hermione felt her gaze soften as she gazed at the spitting image of her best friend. He had no reason to let her know this, or to let her see a glimpse of something that she recently had lost, but it was nice nonetheless.

"I can relate. The people most important to me can sometimes make me do crazy things," she thought of the first night at Hogwarts…Harry's carefree provoking that led to her snogging Paul Ackerly. Her unjust anger with Ron. Her decision to give up her life as she knew it to see Harry through his rehabilitation. "But they are worth it," she smiled almost bitterly.

"Of course. But I seemed to have screwed things up in the process," James admitted.

"Tell me about it. No matter what I do, it seems to add to the distance," Hermione interjected.

"And you can't help but just sit back and kick yourself for it," James sighed as he ran a hand through his dark hair, "Harry or Ron?"

"Mostly Harry. Lily?"

"She won't even look at me."

"He doesn't really talk to me anymore, even though I'm always with him."

James cracked a small genuine lopsided smile that pulled on the nostalgic strings of Hermione's heart, "Aren't we being a pair of sour pusses?"

The now faded image of Harry, Ron, and herself laughing carelessly came to the surface of her thoughts and the pure innocence and youth within that image brought a smile to her face. She would have that again. She had to.

"In fact, we are. You know, this mid-term project might not be so daunting if we worked together," Hermione eyed the imposing stack of books once more. She needed time to focus on her friends.

"It would be cruel to battle this stack of books alone over the holidays. I suppose that I could help you out." James teased.

"Oh really? You haven't damaged your rune knowledge from slamming your head into it, literally?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"If anything I only increased my level of genius through the direct contact," James countered as he began to stand up, "Let's not worry about this tonight," he gestured at the textbooks, "Want to go find some mischief to take our minds off of this pity party?"

Hermione considered it for a few moments, "Actually, yes. What do you have in mind?"

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Harry couldn't believe that he had let himself act on his feelings toward Sirius. After everything he had accomplished, and after all that he had put behind him, what did he honestly expect to happen? Small talk? A snowball fight?

Harry had gotten Sirius off and had left him standing there alone and confused. That in itself was bad enough, let alone the fact that Harry had gotten off as well.

He didn't have time for these feelings. There was so much he needed to do and to learn so that he could kill the son of a bitch that took his real family away from him. The teenagers that he had spent the past few months with weren't his parents, not yet. Wasn't his godfather, not yet. They weren't really his. The people that had loved him were long dead and these younger versions had no ties to him.

They were simply reminders of his loss.

The gaping hole in his heart where his Sirius had been, Harry realized, would never go away. He would just have to make himself strong enough to bear the pain.

Yet…

Why couldn't he let himself act on his attraction to this Sirius? If Harry was going to save the entire world, then why couldn't he take a little in the process of giving?

Harry straightened his shoulders and embraced the cold tendrils that snaked their way around his damaged heart.

They began to soothe his wounds.

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_And on my way I'll take the sunshine  
On my way I'll take your dreams  
On my way I'll say I'm sorry to no one but me  
On my way I'll be my own man  
And I'll only please myself  
On my way my pride's the only feeling I've got left_

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**Review and tell me what you think! I have some lovely ideas for the next chapter ;)**

**-midnightryder**


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